


Mon Cheri

by DeePet



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood Play, Blood and Gore, Dom!Michael, Dry Humping, Dry Orgasm, F/M, Fluff, Knife Play, Lollipops, Male G-Spot, Mommy Kink, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Outpost!Michael, Sex Education, Smut, Sojourn!Michael, Vaginal Sex, Virginity, dark michael, innocent michael, lana del rey - Freeform, more tags to come, satanic rituals, soft!michael, sub!Michael
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-10-28 21:16:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17794904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeePet/pseuds/DeePet
Summary: "Love, I mean real, real love is like feeling no fear when your standing in the face of danger, 'cuz you just want it so much."





	1. After

**Author's Note:**

> See you ladies tomorrow.

The purple fabric of your dress chafed against your skin and you instantly felt overheated. It reminded you of the antebellum south and every time you put it on you scowled. In all honesty, you were so used to being naked that the anything covering your knees made you feel stuffy. Still, you stepped into your slippers and walked out of your boudoir, hair tucked in a neat bun.

For the life of you, you could not understand why you were here. You didn’t come from money, you didn’t have a soulmate like the other teens, you were just there. And you didn’t know why. 

What you wouldn’t kill for a cigarette right now. Or even just a piece of candy.

The halls of the fortress were dark, only lit by small torches every few paces, and your eyes had to adjust to the dim lighting every time you stepped foot out of your room. You stepped in the dining room of the fortress just as everyone else had settled in. The room was lit with gibberish and complaining, as the elite often did. 

You barely paid attention, keeping to yourself as you always did. Suddenly, all the chatter ceased by the sound of Venable's cane dragging across the floor. Your eyes jumped to the darkly dressed woman as her confident stride was only limited by the cane she carried. She stood, elevated by the row of steps like a stage, and regarded over the likes of you. Her eyes met yours, her gaze heavy before she passed on to address the whole room. 

“We have a most distinguished guest,” She paused before a faux smile spread across her lips, “Joining us, here to secure our salvation.” The sound of slow, languid steps came from the doorway of the foyer and you turned your head to see the most beautiful man that ever graced your vision. He had his eyes trained on Miss Venable and he stopped dangerously close to the woman, tilting his head.

You expected the hard woman to snap at the man, but she simply stepped to the side. Your eyes widened by a fraction, slightly sitting up at attention. 

“My name is Langdon and I represent the cooperative.” 

Your lips separated. It was like everything about him called out to you. A memory that you couldn’t bring to the forefront of your mind. You could smell cotton and taste the red candy you used to love. He was a part of the nostalgia somehow but you couldn’t quite place it…

Who the hell was this man?

As he spoke words you couldn’t hear, his eyes went to everyone in the room. When they fell on yours, time stopped for a moment. A flicker of recognition echoed in your mind and you tilted your head in question as he just passed over you like a stranger. 

Because you were a stranger. You didn’t know him. Your mind was just playing tricks on you. 

The man, Langdon, then walked out of the room. His footfalls echoing once more as he left. The room fell into chatter once more and you got up in a haze, leaving without a word. You found yourself wandering through the halls, tracing the marble walls with your finger. Your mind was heavy, heavier than it really should have been and your thoughts were consumed by the beautiful honey blonde. 

You slightly jumped at the sudden appearance of Miss Venable in front of you. She called your name in a hard tone and you averted your gaze. 

“Where are you off to?” 

“Nowhere, Miss.” You replied, body going rigid as the woman stepped into your space. You rejected the urge to step back and let her assess you, holding your breath. 

“Go to your room.” The woman commanded lowly, stepping around you, “Now.” 

“Okay.” You acquiesced, a shudder running down your spine. You began to make your way back to your wing of the fortress, going up the stairs just as it seemed someone was coming down. 

You looked up from the hold on your dress to see Langdon’s blue eyes already on you. You didn’t look away and it was almost like you couldn’t. When the two of you actually crossed paths on the steps he paused, causing you to stop as well. 

“Hello.” He greeted you, his voice deep and dripping of honey. 

“Hiya.” You greeted back, self consciously pressing your back against the wall of the stairwell. 

The two of you stared at each other in the stairwell; you peeking up at him through your lashes and him peering down at you with a tight smile. 

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could help them, “You seem…” You paused, suddenly feeling foolish, “You  _ look _ familiar… Have we met before?”

“No.” Langdon replied shortly, “I don’t believe we have.”

“Oh.” You muttered, casting your gaze down, “Sorry.” You turned towards the way to your room once more and bit your lip, glowering at how stupid you sounded until his voice referred to you once more.

“Sweet dreams,  _ Cherrie _ .”

You froze on your step before looking behind you to see that he was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on my [fanfiction tumblr](http://deepett.tumblr.com/) , I answer questions and stuff and things.


	2. Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you tomorrow, lovelies.

Your skin twinkled with beads of sweat under the hot California sun as you carried two bags filled with trash over your shoulder. A lollipop stick hung out of your mouth like a cigarette and your legs were long and bare, save for the jean shorts that stopped at your thighs. You had on a tight white tee with the Pepsi-cola logo on it and your face was bare, save for the vaseline on your lips. 

With another huff, you dropped the trash bag on the curb. You took out your lollipop and stuck it in one of the bags, fanning yourself with a scowl. Glancing at your front door, you took a seat on the curb and pulled the cigarette you had stolen from your mother out the pocket of your high waisted jeans, lighting it and inhaling. 

You blew out a stream of smoke, checking your back ever so often to make sure the blinds hadn’t moved. The sound of a door opening startled you and caused you to move your attention to the house across the street. 

A boy was taking out the trash as you had done moments before. Intrigued, you squinted and got up from the curb, watching the boy’s every move. You would get little glimpses of him once in a blue moon, but for the most part, Mead kept him locked up. He was her nephew or something, at least that’s what your mother had told you.

Your brows furrowed, he had to be at least your age but you had never seen him at school before. Taking one last hit of your cigarette, you flicked it away and stood, wiping your hands on your shorts. You kept your eyes on the boy as he arranged the bags on the curb, propping them up neatly. He didn’t seem to notice your staring until he was finished. And you kept right on staring, feeling no shame as your eyes began to swirl with blue. 

Finally getting a good look at him was surreal. He was like one of the angels Michelangelo had painted so long ago, with round cheeks and blonde hair, yet he was tall. But not too tall, you could probably reach his height on the tips of your toes. 

The sound of your name being screamed caused you to break your gaze and you looked toward your house, glaring daggers at the cracked door.

“You better not be smokin’ out there!” Your mother yelled, making you roll your eyes.

“I’m not.” You called back, turning on your heel to go home. You shut the front door to and marched to the kitchen, seeing your mother cooking dinner.

“Did you steal one of my cigarettes?” She questioned and you shook your head. “Do me a favor and return that box to Miss Mead.” 

You nodded and grabbed the box, peeking inside. There were little baking trinkets that your mother had used for the church bake sale. 

Kicking the door open, you shifted the box to one hand and shut it behind yourself, padding across the street. You knocked three times, then stepped back and waited.

After a few moments the door opened but instead of the burly woman with dark lipstick, it was the boy. His eyes widened at the sight of you.

You pushed the box toward him, “My mom wanted me to return these to your aunt.” 

The boy slowly took the box from you, though his blue eyes stayed trained on you. “Well…” You trailed, slowly backing away, “See ya.” You waved as you turned around.

“She’s not my aunt.” 

A new voice called out to you and you turned back toward the house. You looked to the boy for clarification.

“Miss Mead isn’t…” He continued with shuffling his feet.

“Oh.” You muttered with a nod.

“Yeah…” The boy added, before moving the box to his side and holding out his hand, “I’m Michael.”

You slid your hand into his, shaking it loosely, “Cherrie.” 

“Like the fruit?” 

“Yeah, they call me on account of me being able to tie the stem in my mouth.” You explained with a secret smile, “Only I tell my mom it’s because I wear so much red. You can let go now.” His hand retracted from yours hastily and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sorry.” Michael said, a pretty pink blush on his cheeks.

“It’s okay.” You assured, adjusting the strap of your shirt. “So do you go to Dalton or what?” 

Michael shook his head with a shy smile, “I’m homeschooled.”

“Oh.” You muttered, crossing your arms, “That explains a lot.” 

The blonde boy looked like you had struck him, “Sorry?” 

“I just mean I don’t see you around.” You explained with a shrug, before asking, “Do you have a phone?”

Michael shook his head and you frowned. “Or like an email?”

“I’m not really allowed to-!”

“Michael.” A voice behind you rang and you quickly uncrossed your arms, moving out of the way. You put on a fake smile turned towards the intruder. 

“Hiya Miss Mead. I was just returning your baking trinkets. I can attest that the cookies were delish.” You gushed despite the hard stare she was giving you. 

“Glad to hear it. Michael, go put those away for me.” Miss Mead ordered and the boy disappeared without even a second glance. “Look here missy, if I see you talking to my boy ever again, I’ll rip your heart out and feed it to him. Got me?”

“Yeah okay.” You nodded, polite smile still in place. You looked over her shoulder and yelled, “Bye Michael!” Before the door was slammed in your face. Your smile dropped and you turned towards your house, walking away from the dark door. 

As soon as you were inside your name was called again from the kitchen with the same angry inflection. 

With a tired sigh, you trotted to the kitchen to see your mother plating the chicken she had cooked for dinner. “Yes?” You inquired, leaning against the counter.

“I just got off the phone with Miriam Mead. She told me you were harassing her son?”

You sucked your teeth with a scowl, “I was being  _ nice _ .”

“Well,” Your mother muttered as she set the table, “Don’t talk to him anymore. I have a good rapport with our neighbors I don’t want you to ruin that. Dinner’s ready.”

It was an uneventful meal and you were left with the dishes. After every last dish was cleaned and dried, you padded up the stairs to your room. Putting on some music, you changed into your pajamas and climbed into bed, losing yourself in thought.

At around midnight, when you knew your mother was asleep, you snuck out of your room and stole a cigarette from her purse. As silently as you could, you tiptoed to the front door and snuck out of it, finding your regular place on the grass and lying down. You lit the cigarette and blew into the cool night, staring at the fullness of the moon.

“Are you alright?” 

A voice startled you out of your daydream and you lifted yourself on your elbows, relaxing when you saw it was only Michael. 

“Oh hi.” You greeted, tilting your head up. “I’m great. Are you alright?”

“Yes.” Michael nodded, holding his hand out to help you up. You slid your hand into his but instead of being pulled up, you yanked him down with you, laughing at his incredulous face. He cleared his throat and mirrored your position, lying on the grass. 

“Isn’t the sky pretty at night?” You muttered, taking a hit of your cigarette. 

Michael hummed in response and you glanced over at him, blowing smoke out the side of your mouth. You sized him up before quickly turning back to the view. 

“Your mom called my house, y’know.” You informed the blonde, putting your hands behind your head. 

“She’s not my mother.” Michael protested evenly, “And I’m sorry about that.”

“She said I was,” You paused as your lips spread in a smile, “ _ Harassing _ you.”

“You weren’t.” The blonde assured, still staring up at the sky. 

You sneaked a peek at him and breathed a teasing sigh of relief, “Well thank  _ God _ .” That made Michael laugh, a short chuckle and that in turn made you smile brightly at him. You turned on your side and faced him, holding your head up with your hand. “Y’know,” You started with that same friendly grin, “I’m seeing you a lot today for a person I’ve never talked to before.”

Michael raised a brow and turned on his side as well, mirroring you once again. You took the staring contest as a moment to examine his features up close, an god _ damn _ if he wasn’t perfect. His face was perfectly symmetrical, down to the moles on his cheeks. He barely had pores and in the back of your mind, you made a mental note to ask what kind of soap he used. His blonde hair had little golden strands in it and his blue eyes were as clear as a Bahamian sea. 

The compliment tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop it, “You’re very pretty.” 

“Thank you.” Michael muttered back, staring right back at you.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled softly, a yawn fought its way through you and you sighed, “It’s getting late, I’m gonna head in.”

“Okay.” The blonde agreed, standing up and holding a hand out for you. You actually took it this time and lifted yourself up, sweeping the dirt from your pajama bottoms. 

You turned to go back into your house before pausing, turning back to Michael, “I know you said you don’t have a phone-!”

“A cell phone.” Michael corrected quickly, “We have a house phone.”

You nodded before frowning, “I don’t have a pen…”

“I can remember.” He assured eagerly, his bright eyes gleaming.

You laughed at this and told him your number slowly. “If you get lonely, homeschool,” You teased with a small smile, “Just give me a call.”

“Okay.” Michael nodded, his big blue eyes gazing down at you.

“Well… goodnight.” You called, leaning against your door, “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

“You’re welcome.” Michael replied, smiling small, “Goodnight.”

You opened your door and waved, before closing it softly. Tiptoeing back to your room, you closed your bedroom door and locked it, flopping on your bed. You closed your eyes and wrapped yourself in your white sheets, breathing in the smell of cotton. 

Just as you were falling asleep, you heard your cell phone buzzing insistently from your nightstand. You blindly grabbed for it and answered, pressing it against your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi.” Michael’s voice replied back shyly, “This is Michael Langdon from across the street. I was just making sure you had my number too, in case you wanted to call me, also.”

“Okay, Michael I got it. Night.” You yawned, waiting for his reply. 

“Goodnight Cherrie.” Michael sang softly, “Sweet dreams.”

You hung up your phone and placed it on your nightstand, turning over again and getting comfortable. You were asleep within five minutes.

It was warm, almost sweltering and you felt the slick sweat sliding down your brow. You looked around and saw stark white walls. Furrowing your brows, you wondered where you were, as you were still wearing your cherry pink pajamas. 

The sound of a far off voice scared you and your head whipped around to find the source of the sound. The white walls began to fade to a dark blue and you found yourself in a bedroom.

“What?” You muttered to yourself, looking around, “How’d…?”

“Cher.”

The bastardizing of your name caught your attention and you turned around, seeing a tall figure.

“My name is Cherrie.” You corrected the figure draped a dark red velvet hood and cloak, “Who are you?” 

The figure’s ringed hand slowly raised and brushed against your cheek. The gesture made you flinch; the person’s skin was deathly hot and it burned against your own.

“I missed you like this.” The words came out in a whisper and you furrowed your brows, “So pure.”

“Missed me?” You repeated lowly, your mind searching for an answer, “You know me?”

The figure nodded, “I do.” 

You retorted quickly, “Do I know you?”

“I believe,” The figure trailed, their voice warm, “We just met today, actually.”

Curiosity got the better of you and before you could register what you were doing, you reached up and clasped the velvet hood in your hands, pushing it down to reveal bright blue eyes and long blonde hair.

“Michael?” You whispered, your eyes wide.

And it  _ was _ Michael, albeit a bit older. The man’s cheekbones were sharper and the baby fat had melted from his face. His hair had grown below his shoulders and curled to caress his back. There was an aura about him that wasn’t there before, an air of danger and it called out to you as the older man smirked.

“H..how?” You breathed the question, chewing on your bottom lip, “This must be a dream, I… I’m dreaming… How would I know what you’d look like?”

“You wouldn’t.” Michael informed her, that self-satisfied smirk still on his face, “This is all me, Cher.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” You asked, trying to calm yourself. 

“I used to call you ‘cheri’.” Michael replied, a thoughtful expression on his face, “I remember you taught me a few words in French,” He paused before smiling tightly, “And the  _ real _ reason they call you ‘Cherrie’.”

Your face warmed and you turned away from him, walking to the door of the room. You tried the doorknob but it wouldn’t open. 

“It’s locked.” Michael informed you, suddenly a hair’s breath away from your back, “Not that you could go anywhere.” You swallowed and turned around to face him, pressing your back against the door. His eyes drank in your face slowly, pausing at your lips before returning your gaze. “Did I frighten you?” He rasped, peering at you from above. 

“I doubt any of this is even real.” You breathed, your lashes fluttering as you felt his scorching touch trailing over your clothed thigh. You sucked in a breath as he got to the sliver of skin between your top and bottoms. 

“I remember these.” He nearly slurred, dragging his finger along your stomach, “So soft.”

You bit your lip and looked back at up Michael, goosebumps over your skin. All of it felt so  _ real _ . You licked your lips and swallowed, placing your hand over his to make him stop his exploration. “Michael,” You whispered, unconsciously lacing your fingers with his, “How is this possible?”

A sinister smile spread across his face and his eyes seemed to darken, “Well you see  _ mon cheri _ ,” He paused for a moment, gauging your reaction, “I’m the antichrist.”

  
  



	3. After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you tomorrow.

You were chewing on your thumbnail and staring at nothing in the library. It was quiet, as most of the idiots you were stuck with were in the sitting room, and you were left with your own thoughts to fill in the spaces. 

They were mainly on Langdon.

You removed your nail from your mouth and started to chew on your bottom lip instead, getting up from the couch and moving to the shelves of books to seem busy. 

He was an angel, or so it seemed, sent from heaven promising salvation to only the best of you. If you were being honest, you had no hope in getting into the so-called ‘sanctuary’. You were lucky to be in the outpost, as you were a nobody with no money. 

You still remembered the look on your mother’s face all those months ago when the swat team came knocking. She thought that they were taking both of you; only for her face to fall. She cried silently as she kissed your forehead and said her last goodbye. You, however, didn’t actually feel the pain until you were far away. When it did hit you, you couldn’t breathe. Even now, when you thought of it tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. 

You sniffed unconsciously, running a finger over the spine of a thick novel. You hoped you would see your mother again in the afterlife, if there was one. 

But you had more pressing matters to worry about; How did  _ he _ know your name? Not even your name but  _ that _ name. No one had called you that in months, not since you were in school. Could he be one of your summer lovers that you never called back? Or maybe he was a secret admirer of yours at Dalton? Maybe a passing one-sided crush? 

You hummed at the thought, wetting your lips as you took a random book and opened it, staring blankly at the page. 

No, you would have remembered a boy like Langdon. With blue eyes and blond hair, not to mention that mouth… 

You swallowed thickly. It had been a while since someone had even touched your  _ hand _ , let alone put their  _ mouth _ on you. You missed the days of your youth when you were carefree and loving. You could smile and have a boy drooling at your feet. Your only worry was being caught smoking by your mother. It was glorious. 

You were so much older now, though it was just six months ago that you were brought to this purgatory, and your memories seemed to only weigh you down. You had survived the fallout, but it was bittersweet, as everyone you had known was gone. Your life was gone and if you were honest with yourself;  _ you _ were gone. 

All of that fight and spirit had been  _ beat _ out of you by Venable. When you first came to the outpost you were defiant, you didn’t abide by the dress code, you swore, you leered. Miss Venable had made it her purpose to break you and she succeeded after only three beatings. The third was the worst, for she had caught you with your hands under your dress. She cursed your very existence and took joy in every strike against your back. The woman had a sick obsession with you and you didn’t know why, but she got her wish once the blood ran down your skin from her whippings.

The woman who you were now was just a ghost, haunting the halls of the outpost, not having a smile or a laugh for anyone. Not like you used to. You weren’t ‘Cherrie’. You were just a shell.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made you jump and you shut your book with a thump. Whipping around, you found Langdon standing there with his tight grin.

“Hello.” He greeted you with a nod, his hands behind his back. 

“Hiya.” You muttered back, biting your lip. 

It was silent for a moment and then he began to approach you, his boots echoing along the floor. You stayed in your spot, even as he stopped right in front of you. 

“Everyone is in the foyer.” He stated, almost as if he was speaking to himself, “But you are here.” 

There was not a question in his tone, it was more of an observation, but you stumbled to explain yourself. “It’s quiet in here.” You said, looking up at him through your lashes, “I like the quiet.”

“You like the solitude.” The man retorted, tilting his head. You averted your gaze and nodded silently. “Well my little librarian, I need your help finding a book.”

“A book?” You repeated, playing with the one in your hands. 

Michael smiled tightly, “There seems to be an echo in here.” He took a step closer and you could feel the warmth radiating off of his skin. Your eyes flickered up to his to find his gaze steadily on you. You held your breath; he moved away. 

“It’s French.” He spoke once more, his foot falls echoing through the empty room, “An old friend introduced it to me.”

You swallowed, placing the nameless book in your hands back on the shelf. “What’s the name of it?” You questioned, finally finding your voice as your eyes danced over the spines of the novels, “Whoever categorized this library did it wrong.”

Langdon turned his head, his blonde locks falling over his shoulder as he glanced back at you. “Therese Raquin.” His tongue danced over the foreign name, “By Emile Zola.”

You paused before walking to the shelf the tall man stood at. Reaching next to him, you took out the aforementioned book, dustless and pristine for you had just read it again a week ago. Turning to Langdon, you held the book out for him to take. 

“It’s a favorite.” You muttered, your eyes meeting his. “And I’ll need it back eventually.”

His gaze was unwavering as he placed his large hands on top of yours, his fingers dancing over the hardcover. Your breath hitched at the contact. 

“I’ll take good care of it.” Langdon promised as he slid the novel from your hands. 

“It’s in French.” You informed him, just to really have something to say. You didn’t want the conversation to end just yet. 

“I know.” Langdon replied, and you felt that there was not a thing new you could tell him. 

He seemed closer to you now but he hadn’t moved. Maybe your body was moving on its own accord because you were leaning on the bookshelf in the way you used to lean against your locker when a jock spoke to you. 

The quiet of the moment got to you and you raised your thumb to your mouth, chewing on your nail. Langdon’s blues fell to the sight. 

“You used to smoke.” The man accused and you twitched. 

You pulled your thumb away from your mouth and looked away, “How did you know?”

“I can tell.” Langdon muttered as his eyes flickered back to yours, “You have an…  _ oral _ fixation.” His words slinked out and wrapped around you, squeezing the breath from your lips. 

“I don’t.” You objected half-heartedly, “I just…” His eyes dared you to elaborate. You didn’t. 

Langdon’s tight smile was back on his face as he walked around you. You stared at nothing as you listened to him go further away. 

The footsteps stopped for a moment and you glanced over your shoulder, “Your interview will be tonight after dinner,” He paused, amusement in his tone, “Think of it as a sort of  _ book club _ .”

Tap, tap, tap. 

He was gone and you were ravished.

  
  



	4. Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know thew drill.

You woke up to the sunlight streaming through your window. You squinted your eyes and turned your back, covering your head with a pillow. 

After an hour of trying to go back to sleep, you surrendered to the day and got up, padding to your bathroom and turning on the shower. You stripped down and haphazardly twisted your hair into a bun, covering it with a shower cap. Stepping under the spray of the water, you let out a tired sigh as your mind began to wander to your dream.

_ “I’m the antichrist.” _

It wasn’t as if you were super religious or anything but your mother did drag you to church every Sunday. You knew enough of the ideology to speak about it in polite conversation. Yet, the thought of Michael being the antichrist scared the  _ life _ out of you. 

If the dream was real, of course.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and started to wash up. You rinsed off the soap and cut off the water, wrapping a towel around yourself. You took off your shower cap and padded back to your room, shutting the door behind you. Opening your drawer, you took out a pair of cotton panties and slid them up your legs, followed by your shorts. You dropped your towel and put on a tight red tee, letting your hair go free.

You poked your head out of your room, calling out, “Mom?” You got no response and a smirk spread across your face. You padded down the stairs and threw open the front door, walking to the mailbox. Looking through your letters with disinterest, you peeked over at the house across the street. Your mind wandered to your weird dream once again before shaking your head and going back into your house.

You went up to your room and grabbed your phone, redialing the last number that called you. 

It rang once, twice and on the third ring, it was answered.

“Mead Residence.”

You smiled, “Hey homeschool.”

“Cherrie.” Michael greeted with the brightness of a child. “Hello!”

“Hiya,” You greeted back, “I see your mom left and my mom’s not home. Do you wanna come over and play?”

“Play?” The boy repeated, “Yes. 

“Great,” You laughed jovially, “We can listen to music and-!” Your suggestions were cut short by the dial tone. You looked at your phone with furrowed brows. A moment later the doorbell rang.  “Wow…” You muttered, padding down the steps. 

You opened the front door and saw Michael standing there. A friendly smile spread across his face once he met your eyes. He was dressed in a black top with no sleeves and basic jeans.

“That was quick.” You teased with a grin, letting him inside. 

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Michael explained as he looked around the foyer. “Your house is nice.”

“It’s not mine but thanks. D’you want something to drink?”

“No thank you.” 

You shrugged and motioned for him to follow you up the steps, acutely aware of his hard stare on your back. Pushing the door open to your room, you waved your hand in a flourish, “This is my house.”

Michael’s blue eyes finally left you and inspected your room. The walls were pink, but only because your mother wouldn’t let you paint them red, of course, you got around this by using posters to cover each and every part of the wall. Your bedspread was white with red polka dots on it and all of the furniture was black. You had a record player/speaker in the corner and a desk pressed against the window. On the opposite wall of the bed was a small closet and a dresser was next to the bed. 

The boy's eyes seem to stay on your unmade bed and you frowned, quickly moving around him to make it. “Sit wherever.” You called as you patted your bedspread. He chose to sit there and you grabbed your desk chair, spinning it around and leaning against the back of it. 

It was silent for a moment, no one saying a word and you allowed your eyes to wander to Michael. He was already staring back at you. 

“I’m going to put on some music.” You announced suddenly, not liking the silence. “Do you have a preference?”

“I don’t really listen to music,” Michael admitted sheepishly, his hands in his lap.

“Oh.” You blinked before shrugging. You got up from the desk chair and picked up your phone, finding a random playlist to put on. The beginning melody of a song began to play and you moved your shoulders to the beat, taking out your bag of suckers. 

“You want a lollipop?” You asked and Michael shook his head. You unwrapped one for yourself and put it in your mouth, taking your seat once again. 

You tapped your feet to the beat of the song and smiled as Michael began to do it, too.

“I like it.” Michael declared suddenly.

“Right?” You smiled widely, taking out your sucker, “It’s like nostalgic but new.” 

The song ended and the beginning chords of ‘Body Electric’ rang through your room, making you gasp, “Oh my God…” You trailed, almost in a moan, “I love this song!” 

Lana’s slurred words made you hop up, “Come on Michael,” You called, holding your hands out, “Dance with me.” 

Michael’s eyes widened and he shook his head, “Oh no, Cherrie, I don’t-!”

You pouted playfully and swayed to the beat, putting your hands above your head.  “We get down every Friday night! Dancin’ and grindin’ in the pale moonlight.” You sang with Lana, before looking at Michael, seeing him quickly averting his eyes from your body. 

You laughed teasingly, “You’re so shy.” Michael didn’t reply as you turned down the music and took your seat again, putting your sucker back in your mouth. 

You studied him for a moment, turning your lollipop in your mouth before taking it out. “You’re different.” 

“Sorry.” Michael apologized and you furrowed your brows.

“Oh don’t apologize.” You shook your head, “I didn’t mean it in a bad way-!”

“You’re really pretty.” The blonde boy suddenly said, leaning forward on the bed.

You bit down on your sucker in surprise and got up from your chair, throwing your stick in the trash. “Am I?” You teased the question, your face warming now that your back was turned.

“Yes.” 

You smiled to yourself as you grabbed another lollipop and unwrapped it, sticking it in your mouth. You turned around to see Michael still staring at you with a steady gaze.

“It’s not polite to stare.” You quipped, sitting back down.

“You have an oral fixation.” Michael retorted, tilting his head as you lick. 

“I would say you’re the one with the fixation seeing as how you love to stare at my mouth when I speak.” You replied back just as quick.

The boy’s eyes slowly trailed up from your lips to your eyes with an intensity that you had only seen last night in your dreams.  “I do not.” Michael protested his tone hard but amusement was in his gaze.

Your lashes fluttered but you found your voice, teasing, “Sure,  _ homeschool _ .” You got a quick taste of your sucker before continuing, “I mean it’s normal. You  _ are  _ a teenage boy and you guys all think about one thing.”

“What?” 

You laughed at the joke before realizing that he was serious. “Sex, Michael.” You clarify. 

“Oh.” Michael blinked, “Right.”

“Yeah…” You frowned; the beautiful cherub of a boy was a virgin. You couldn’t help but think about the older version of himself that oozed sexuality and carnal need. Yet here he was in front of you untouched and seemingly innocent. It was strange. 

“Hey Michael,” You started, voice lifting on his name, “Would you like to see my breasts?” 

“What?” Michael stuttered out, dumbfounded. 

“You can say no,” You assured him, “I won’t be mad.”

The cherub sputtered with wide eyes, looking around the room as if it were a trick. He opened and closed his mouth twice before nodding. “Yes please.”

Standing up from your chair, you lifted up your shirt and flashed him for a count of five. You put your shirt down and took your seat again, putting your sucker in your mouth. 

Michael looked like he had just seen all the answers to the universe. 

“Michael.” You called out after five minutes of silence. “Stop, you’re scaring-!”

“Can I touch them?”

You blinked in surprise, taking your loli out of your mouth. “I...okay.” You agreed, standing up again. You moved closer to him and lifted your shirt, this time leaving it above your breasts. 

Slowly Michael’s hands reached up, hovering over your chest. They were slightly shaking and you placed your own on top of his, guiding them to your breasts. 

You inhaled sharply at the heat of his hands.

“So soft,” Michael whispered and bells of recognition went off in your head. His thumbs caressed your skin and your nipples hardened underneath his palm. Dropping your hands, you bit back a moan as he tugged at the hard peaks.

“Michael.” You sputtered out, not expecting it. He responded by twisting them and you grimaced, “Wait-!

“Why?” He muttered, his gaze not moving from your eyes. He did it again and your hand shot up to the back of his head, yanking it back.

Michael groaned lowly, his eyes closing. His mouth was open and you kept the hold on his hair and stepped forward, the skin of your bare legs brushing against his jeans. You climbed into his lap and hissed from above him. “I told you to stop.” 

Michael’s eyes fluttered open and he swallowed thickly, his hands now at his sides. He looked up at you as if it was the first time he had ever seen the sun, even though his touch was the one that was burning your skin.

You watched his eyes leave yours and flicked to your heaving chest. Glancing back up at you defiantly, he slowly leaned forward and nudged his nose against your left nipple, his pink tongue flicking out to lick at it.

“Michael.” You weakly warned, biting your tongue as he pecked a chaste kiss against your skin. He hummed in response the sound buzzing off his lips and onto your nipple.

“Cherrie.” He rasped back, dragging his tongue to the other peak. “Your heart’s beating fast.” He mouthed, smiling against your skin. He thrusted up against you suddenly and you gasped, grabbing onto his shoulder. He moaned and did it again, this time holding your hips down and taking a nipple in his mouth.

You gagged on your sucker and tore it out of your mouth, discarding it on the floor and grasping Michael’s head. You forced it back and met your lips with his, moaning loudly as he rutted against you.

A deep animalistic groan rumbled in Michael’s chest and you happily swallowed it as his hands held onto your hips bruisingly. He rutted against you relentlessly, sucking the air from between the two of you. You tugged on his golden hair again and he choked, the pace of his thrusts increasing. 

“Cherrie,  _ Cherrie _ .” He called desperately under his breath, his teeth clenched. He was a pretty pink and his lips were almost red. You took pride in the sight. 

Michael hissed as his nails carved half-moons into your skin. Burying his head into your shoulder, you felt his teeth breach your skin as he reached his climax.

You grimaced in pain and your body tensed as he rolled his hips against yours one more time before he stilled his chest heaving. You both sat in silence, the weight of the situation settling between you. You felt Michael finally move, nuzzling against the bite he made on your shoulder. You shivered as he licked the beads of blood from the cut.

“Um…?” You started but Michael pushed you off of him, jumping up and covering the wet spot of his jeans.

“I have to go.” Michael sputtered, nearly bolting out of the room. 

“Hey!” You called, tugging your shirt down, “Michael, wait!” Before you could get down the steps your front door was slammed shut. You stared at the close door with a frown and sat on the top step.

You sat lost in your thoughts for a while, only snapping out of it when your front door opened to reveal your mother coming home from work.

“I brought Chinese!” 

“Great.” You responded faintly, getting up from your seat. You looked down at your shorts and blanched before running to your room to change into your pajamas.

Dinner passed and you were soon in your bed again, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. You decided to skip your midnight cigarette and go straight to bed.

When midnight finally did roll around you were still staring at your ceiling, but the music was playing lowly. The posters above you began to blur and your eyelids began to droop, finally able to sleep. 

When your eyes opened again, you found yourself in the same bedroom as before, only this time you were on the bed. You sat up and looked around the room, your guard up. 

“Hello, Cher.” 

“Michael.” You called getting up from the bed. He seemed to walk out of the shadows and stood before you with an air of majesty. “How was your day?” He dryly asked, though it was tinged with a dash of amusement. 

You blanched and looked away, “That’s not funny.”

Michael smiled mockingly at you and said nothing else. 

“Anyways,” You started, “Is there a reason you came back in my dreams? Going to give me some fresh wisdom or something?”

“No.” Michael bluntly replied, taking a step towards you. “I just wanted to see you like this again.”

“Like what?” You questioned lowly, standing your ground. You didn’t get an answer, just the same tight smile that seemed to stay on older Michael’s face. The feeling of his fingers brushing against your cheek made you close your eyes involuntarily. The rings on his fingers were cold contrasting against his burning touch.

“Are you real?” You whispered, your eyes still closed. 

“Don’t ask questions you know the answer to.” Michael rasped above you and you slowly opened your eyes, gaze meeting his. 

“Okay.” You replied in a hushed tone as one of his hands came to rest on your shoulder. You kept your eyes on him as he pushed your sleep shirt to the side, his gaze flickering down to where the other Michael marked you. 

You held your breath as he leaned down and nuzzled his nose against the mark, his other hand resting on the small of your back. He made a trail from your shoulder to the juncture of your neck, burying a hand in your hair and forcing your head to the side, baring your neck to him. He inhaled your scent deeply and hummed lowly, so low you almost didn’t hear it. 

“Mon Cheri,” Michael slurred, removing himself from your neck. He pressed his forehead against yours and breathed in deeply, before pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered closed and you pressed back with the same intensity, gripping his velvet lapels in your hands. 

“You’re so sweet.” Michael mouthed against your lips, before kissing you again. A sharp pain made you grimace and you tried to pull away but you were forced back against Michael’s lips even as blood poured from your mouth. “Stop…” You tried to protest, the pain overwhelming you, “Michael-!”

“It’s so  _ intoxicating _ .” Michael moaned, finally pulling away with your blood on his face and something in his mouth. 

You gargled out a sound in question before looking up with wide eyes; he had bitten the tongue out of your mouth.

“You really do taste like cherries.” He smirked as you screamed. 


	5. After

The sound of water dripping echoed through your ensuite as you soaked in the tub. Showers were not allowed in the outpost, as they were considered a waste of water. You didn’t mind much; you always loved a good bubble bath. You especially loved taking baths in the outpost, as it was one of the only times you could be naked and alone. 

The water rippled as you reached over to pull the stop. You mentally noted that it was almost time for dinner. Standing up, you grabbed a towel and wrapped it around yourself, stepping out of the tub. You padded to the bedroom, drying yourself as you walked. Grabbing your panties, you put them on first, sliding the cotton up your legs. You put on your outpost-sanctioned bustier and then slid your nylons up your legs, clipping them to your bustier. Tugging the string with your teeth, you tied your corset as tight as you could. Finally, you slipped your dress over your clothes, the neckline delicately falling off your shoulders. You twisted your hair above your head and knotted it into a bun. With one last glance in the mirror, you were ready. 

You left your room and made it to the dining room in the nick of time, as everyone had just begun to sit down. You took your seat at the table; on the left side of Venable and across from Mead. Your cube was placed in front of you and you sliced it into thin pieces dainty. 

There was chatter all around you as you ate and you glanced around the room, surprised and a little disappointed that Langdon hadn’t shown up. 

You absentmindedly rubbed your legs together, the nylon itching your skin. A stern hand on your knee made you stop. You swallowed the rest of your cube and dabbed at your mouth with your napkin then calmly placed your hands in your lap, shoving off the hand on your knee without anyone seeing it. 

You knew you would pay for it later but you didn’t care. 

Dinner was dismissed and you were the first one out of the dining room. 

Your plan to avoid Venable was taking laps around the outpost. It was not the first time you’ve had to avoid the woman and you had learned quite a few things about your fellow outpost inhabitants in your time on the run. 

For example, you knew Timothy and Emily were fucking, Galavant masturbated very violently, Coco’s fingers were pruned for a reason and that Mead was having a sapphic affair with Venable. 

Speaking of, the sound of Venable’s cane interrupted your thoughts and you hurriedly hid against the shadow of a column, holding your breath as she passed you. You watched her back for a moment, only exhaling when she rounded the corner. 

You took a step out of the shadows only to jump out of your skin at the sight of Langdon. You put a hand to your heaving chest and braced yourself against the wall. 

“Did I frighten you?” The blonde questioned and you bit your lip to hold in a nasty retort. 

“It was my fault,” You replied instead, righting yourself, “I shouldn’t have been hiding.” 

“So you were hiding…” Langdon trailed, his head tilting in question, “From what?”

“Nothing, sir.” You muttered, looking down at your feet. “If you would excuse-!”

“I have no loyalty to anyone here.” He interjected, his hands behind his back, “That means that I keep secrets. I am in charge, contrary to popular belief, so if there is a…” He smiled tightly, “ _ Complaint _ , I would like to know about it.”

Your gaze met his once more and your breath caught in your throat. He was looking at you as if you were bare with all of your secrets written in ink on your skin, almost like he was reading your mind. The red at the corners of his eyes only enhanced the blue and it was almost hypnotizing as they stared back at you. 

“Do you have one?” Langdon’s voice flowed through your ears like music, warming every part of you. 

“What?” You whispered, your lashes batting. 

The man smiled, just a quick arch of his pink lips and your eyes went to the sight. “A complaint.” He clarified, his teeth straight and white. 

You swallowed, opening your mouth to answer, only to be cut off by the sound of that damned cane dragging along the floor. Your eyes widened and you panicked, grabbing Langdon and pulling him with you into the shadows. 

Venable’s footfalls were slow and as her cane dragged against the floor your only thought was avoiding punishment. She passed by the two of you and you held your breath, watching as she rounded the corner once more. 

You let out the breath you were holding and looked up at Langdon, your eyes going wide as you realized what you had done. “I’m-!” You started but the feeling of bare knuckles on your cheek silenced you. 

Closing your eyes, you melted into the sensation. It was the first time anyone had touched your face without malice in at least six months. His rings were cold against your hot skin as he caressed your cheek. 

He was so close, pressed against you like this, and as you took a deep breath, you were surrounded by him. His touch trailed from your cheeks to your chin, tracing your jawline until he got to your neck. He placed a heavy hand around your throat and you inhaled sharply, your eyes finally opening. 

“W-what are you doing?” You whispered as his thumb tugged at your bottom lip. 

“Nothing.” Langdon replied, his head tilting as his gaze rested on you heavily. As he leaned toward you, his soft hair dragged across your face and you shivered, tensing as his hand moved from your throat to the nape of your neck, gently angling your head to press his lips against your skin. 

A moan sounded from deep within you and your hands raised to the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer.

“What are  _ you _ doing?” The man teased darkly, his words dancing against your skin. 

“I dunno.” You mumbled, turning your head. Your breath mingled for a moment and you let your eyes flutter closed, leaning in.

_ “No.” _

The word slithered against your lips and you opened your eyes to glare at him. He gave you a tight smile as he pulled away, leaving you a heaving mess against the wall. 

“One hour.” Langdon muttered as he went back the way he came.

You watched him leave as you chewed on your bottom lip. “One hour.” You repeated in a whisper.

But he was long gone. 


	6. Before

Your eyes peered from behind rose-tinted sunglasses as you made you trek back from the corner store. It was just down the block, but being that you had no care a five-minute drive turned into a ten-minute walk. Melting in your hands you held the spoils of your hike; a cherry popsicle. Of course, you held both popsicles in both hands, splitting your attentions between the two.

“Hey Cherry!” A pubescent voice called as a boy jogged up behind you.

You squinted and turned around, smiling when you saw your classmate Dylan. He was cute enough, with dark hair and eyes, and the two of you had messed around before.

“Hey Dyl.” You greeted, sucking on one of your treats, “What’s the word?”

“Not much.” The boy replied, his eyes on your mouth, “Ya wanna go hang out?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’m kinda busy; can’t you tell?”

The boy looked at your popsicles and grinned lewdly. He suddenly walked in front of you, making you stop. “I got something better for you to suck on.”

You scowled, rolling your eyes from behind your glasses, “Don’t be gross.”

“Oh come on Cherrie!” Dylan protested as you tried to walk around him, “I’ll lick yours if you lick mine.”

“She said no.” Another voice joined the fray and you stood on your tiptoes to see who it was.

Dylan rolled his eyes and you grinned with your red stained mouth. “Hiya Mikey.”

“Who the hell is he?” Dylan sneered and it was your turn to scowl.

“Mikey’s my boyfriend.” You claimed, walking around Dylan to stand beside Michael. “Right?” You looked up to the taller blonde for confirmation.

“R-right.” Michael agreed as you handed him one of your popsicles.

Dylan sized Michael up before his eyes went back to you. “Whatever.” The boy acquiesced, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking away.

You sighed in relief and turned back towards the blonde. “Thanks for scaring him off.” You grinned with a roll of your eyes, “He’s such a drag.”

“No problem.” Michael returned the smile, “Thank you for the popsicle.”

You nodded and the two of you stood there for a long moment, enjoying your treats.

You and Michael were friends. Friends who had playdates. Nothing else sexual had happened between the two of you, not that you didn’t think about it, and older Michael had stayed out of your dreams.

Of course, the two of you were sneaking around as both your parental figures were against you having any sort of relationship, but you didn’t mind. It was fun having secret codes to communicate; you were even thinking about getting walkie talkies.

You glanced at Michael out the side of your eye, noticing how red his lips were getting from the treat. You bet they tasted pretty sweet, too.

“So where’s your mom?” You teased him, laughing lightly at your own joke.

“She’s not my mom.” Michael replied as he always did with a little smirk, “She’s at a meeting.”

“Oh.” You replied, biting a chunk of your treat off and sucking on it. “D’you wanna hang out?”

“Yeah.” Michael nodded, “But we should do it at my house in case she gets back early.”

You agreed and the two of you walked the short distance to Michael’s house. As he opened the door and stepped inside before you, you realized it would be the first time you stepped foot in there. It was normal. You half expected to see a human sacrifice or something.

Michael led you into the kitchen first and you threw your popsicle stick away then washed your hands in the sink. He followed your action, splashing you with water. You laughed and dried your hands before placing your sunglasses in your hair.

“C’mon I’ll show you my room.” Michael then said, grabbing your hand and leading you up some stairs. He opened the door to his bedroom and you had realized you’d seen it before. Only this time the bed cover was a darker blue than the one in your dreams. “Ta-da!” The blonde embellished, imitating you no doubt before blushing. “I don’t have any music or anything but um we can play Uno or something…”

“Ya got connect four?” You questioned and Michael nodded eagerly, running out the room.

“I’ll be right back.” He called already down the hallway.

You laughed and nudged off your sandals, looking around the room. It was basic. He had a bed, a desk, a closet, and a lamp. Simple. Outside of his window, you could see your room though, albeit a distance away. You grinned at the thought of learning morse code so you didn’t have to whisper on the phone anymore.

“I found it!” Michael called triumphantly and he set up the game on his bedroom floor.

You smiled and sat down across from him, crossing your legs and letting him go first.

He beat you five times. You didn’t care, you were having a fun time teasing him like you always do.

“Mickey,” You started facetiously, “This time I’m really about to school you.”

“Yeah okay.” The blonde retorted, too sweet to actually roll his eyes at you. You laughed loudly and laid on your stomach, dropping your piece in. “Hey Cher,” Michael started and the change in name made you perk up, “What did that boy mean earlier?”

“Huh?” You asked, furrowing your brows. “What are you on about?”

“He said something like,” Michael paused, trying to think of the words, “I’ll lick yours if-!”

“Oh!” You interrupted him hastily, sitting up suddenly. “It’s nothing.”

“Is he talking about candy?”

“Not really.” You grimaced, shifting your eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why won’t you tell me?” Michael whined, apparently done with your game. “You’re making me feel stupid…”

“You’re not stupid.” You protested sharply, shaking your head, “You’re just… ignorant to things like that Michael. It’s a good thing! You’re not like all the other boys.”

Michael was silent for a moment and you thought he put the conversation to bed as he dropped his piece in the board. You did the same and he repeated the motion.

“I won again. Is it something to do with sex?”

You were caught off guard and you nearly fell over. “What?” You exclaimed incredulously.

“Miss Mead gave me a talk about the birds and the bees after…” The blonde paused, his cheeks tinting red, “Well… I had a very weird dream about… nevermind. It’s perfectly normal!” He rushed to add, looking away from you. “Anyways, I’m quite knowledgeable on the subject now.”

You couldn’t help yourself. “Are you?” You teased, hiding a smirk.

“Yes.” Michael smugly replied, crossing his arms. “So what did that boy mean?”

“You tell me, _homeschool_ ," You mocked jokingly, “Since you know it all.”

“Don’t make fun of me.” Michael retorted in a small voice.

You instantly frowned, “I’m sorry.” You looked at his pouting face and wide blue eyes before acquiescing, knowing that would get you in a bind one day, “It just means like, oral.”

“Oral?” Michael repeated, his pout replaced by a furrowed brow, “What does that mean?”

“Like your mouth Michael.” You informed him before gesturing down, “ _Down_ there.”

Michael’s lip formed a perfect round ‘o’ and his eyes widened. He was silent for quite a bit as he turned his attention on cleaning up the game. He gingerly put the pieces back in the box and placed it to the side before turning back to you. “How would you-!” He stopped before clearing his throat, “How do you-! Does it hurt?”

“Not if you do it right.” You answered honestly, leaning back on your hands.

“But your teeth!” Michael protested sharply and you held in a laugh.

“You don’t use teeth.”

“Oh.” He whispered, his eyes unfocusing for a moment. He looked back to you with those same wide eyes, a slight pout on his lips.

Before he could ask you shook your head. “No, Michael.”

“Why not?” The cherub whined, crawling towards you on his knees, “You let that other boy do it! Aren’t we friends?”

“We are but that doesn’t mean-!” You paused, trying to figure out how to explain it to him.

“Please?” Michael begged, looking at you with those eyes. “That other thing we did was fun and I didn’t tell Miss Mead.”

“That was _different_ …” You trailed, looking off to the side. “That was-!” Your breath caught with the feeling off his hand on your bare knee.

“Please?” He begged again, this time crawling between your legs. He moved his hands behind you and leaned forward on his knees, his face inches from yours. “ _Cher_?”

“You might not like it.” You desperately tried but the boy wasn’t hearing any of it.

Michael backed off a little, leaning back on his heels, “ _At least_ let me see it.”

“See what?” You questioned dumbly with a thick swallow.

“Your cunt.” He bluntly replied.

The dirty word coming from a face so pure made you twitch. You furrowed your brows, debating yourself. What was the harm in showing the kid his first pussy? Taking a deep breathe you finally nodded once.

Michael’s eyes lit up as you stood. “No touching.” You stated, unbuttoning your jean shorts, “Just a quick peek.”

“Okay.” Michael whispered, his eyes following your fingers.

You unzipped your pants and let them fall to the ground, stepping out of them. You were left in your Tuesday panties that had the day written on them in pink lettering. Taking another deep breath, you pulled them down your legs, kicking them away. You stood there for, what felt like, ages as Michael just stared at you.

You weren’t sure what exactly he was staring at. His eyes seemed to dart around every inch of you, taking a mental picture.

“Can you bend over please?”

The question took you by surprise. “Uhm,” You choked, before swallowing, “Okay.” You turned around and bent over, not quite touching your toes. You half expected him to break his vow and touch you but he didn’t. He just stared.

“Can you lay down with your legs spread?”

You should have refused.

But you didn’t.

“Wow…” Michael murmured from above you before laying on his tummy for a closer look.

Your whole body burned at the exhibitionist quality the whole interaction had. “Don’t touch.” You reminded him gently, your throat dry.

“I’m not.” Michael assured you, the breath from his words hitting your skin.

Your toes curled. You really wanted him to break the rule. But he didn’t, he just stared.

Suddenly, you felt a feathery air graze the arch of your foot. Your head snapped up, seeing Michael now staring at you from a small distance with his head in his hands. Your eyes narrowed and you watched him as the feathery touch ran along your legs.

“What are you doing?” You questioned and Michael shrugged.

“I dunno.”

The feathery touch separated your labia and lapped at your clit teasingly. You shut your legs and shot up, glaring at Michael.

“I’m not touching you.” The blonde teased with the smirk of a petulant child.

“That’s it, the sideshow is _over_ .” You declared, reaching for your panties, only to find they’re gone. You looked at Michael accusingly and he widened his eyes. “You little _shit_.” You muttered, grabbing your jeans instead.

The feathery feeling was back as you stood, though this time it pressed deeper, swirling up your leg and pressing the seat of your jeans into your cunt and rubbing. You let out a quiet moan, clenching your legs together. “Michael,” You huffed, turning to the boy, _“Stop.”_

“What am I doing?” Michael questioned you and it seemed like your jeans got _tighter_ as they rubbed against you harder.

“I don’t know!” You admitted lowly, barely audible as you reached a hand to the wall to brace yourself, “Don’t…” Your words failed as your shirt seemed to tighten against your bare breasts as well. You buried your hands in between your thighs, trying to stop whatever it was that was happening. You glanced at the blonde through blurry vision, “Michael,” You begged, sliding down the wall as the pressure increased, “ _Michael_ -!”

“Yes?” The antichrist smugly replied as your body tensed at the sensations you were experiencing.

You fell to your knees and huffed, crawling with much difficulty over to Michael, a sudden jolt making you fall over the blonde boy. “Stop.” You slurred again, your hands clutching his t shirt.

“I’m not touching you.” His voice seemed so far away as you shook with every touch. Your eyes fell shut and quiet pants left your lips.

“You,” You started, your throat dry, “Yes, _yes_.” A gasp left your lips and your knees gave, making you fall flush against Michael, your hips moving on their own. “Mich-!” You tried to call but it was too late; you were trembling. You hiccuped out low moans as you rode your orgasm out on the invisible force, still clutching Michael’s shirt in your hands as you shook.

When it was over, you struggled to catch your breath. You felt the touch move away from your center, between your thighs and down your legs, playing with the arches of your feet before disappearing completely. You sniffed and allowed your eyes to open, your vision flooded with blue and pink.

“That wasn’t nice.” You whispered to Michael with his own air, your words caressing his pink, bitten lips. You made a move to let get off of him but his actual hands held you down by your hips then, the cherub gazing admirably at you. You felt his solid length against the wet seat of your jeans but did nothing, only watching Michael.

“I’m sorry.” His apology was empty and you could tell it wasn’t what he really wanted to say. It was more of a courtesy no doubt. He leaned up then, brushing his nose against yours, “I can smell you.” He whispered the admission like a secret.

“Michael,” You started lowly, only to let out a gasp when you found yourself on your back with him above you. “How’d you…?”

“I just thought about it,” Michael murmured, his hands now dancing over your bare arms, “And it happened. Your skin is so soft.”

“Thanks…” You trailed before trying to raise yourself up, only to be pinned down by your wrists. “Miss Mead should be back any minute.” You tried, but it fell on mute ears as a pink hand reached between the hips pinning yours down and into your jeans. “Michael!” You gasped as he presented the glistening fingers to you.

The blonde boy pulled them apart, watching with wide eyes as the liquid strung together between his fingers. He raised his them to his nostrils before licking at the wetness cautiously. Michael let out a sound kin to a satisfied hum before completely shoving his fingers in his mouth. “ _Cherrie_.” He slurred drunkenly, “Please?”

You didn’t have to ask what he was begging for, as his hips had begun to rut against you on their own.

“I can do it right.” He continued, his eyes wide and begging, “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I can be good, I’ll be good for you, Cher. _Please_.” With every plea, he ground into you harder, his breath hitching as if he was going to cry or throw a tantrum.

“Okay!” You finally acquiesced, “Okay but you have to be good. Promise you’ll be good.”

“I promise.” Michael hurriedly assured, letting go of you wrists, “See? I’m being nice. I can be nice.”

You nodded and brought your arms to his shoulders, leaning up and pecking his soft lips, making him moan and press back hard against you. You felt slightly guilty; you knew you were the only one touching him like this, leading him down the path of sex. But he was already dark; he was the antichrist for god sake, but he didn’t know you knew that. Which means it probably seemed as if you were poisoning him.

Or was he affecting you?

Michael sloppily tried to replicate your last kiss, shoving his tongue in your mouth harshly. You pulled back with a shake of your head. “No Michael, like this.” You chided before connecting your lips again and lightly brushing your tongue in his mouth. He repeated the motion, even pulling back to suckle your lip and your eyes opened in shock.

“Was that good?” The boy questioned as he pulled away and you nodded with a small smile. “Yeah Mikey, that was good.”

Michael groaned at the name his hips rutting against yours. “I want to do it now. I want to…” He trailed, not really knowing the name for it yet, _“I want to taste.”_ He said instead and you nodded, grabbing a hold of his hair and nudging him downward.

The boy grinned happily and scooted down your body, pulling your jeans down your legs and opening you up. His hands felt all around your thighs, squeezing and kneading the skin there before settling himself down in front of your sex. He paused, eyes looking up at you expectantly.

“Go ahead, Michael.” You told him patiently, choking as he buried his face in you not a second later. It was almost an overload of your senses as the boy licked and sucked and _kissed_ every part of you his mouth could reach.

He spread your lips apart with his fingers and lapped at your opening, sticking his tongue inside to drink the leftover juices from his earlier ministrations, each lap ended with a moan of pleasure from _him_.

When you found the strength to peek down you saw his eager eyes already looking up at you and you nodded to let him know that he was doing everything so so _so_ right. You let out a sharp cry of his name when his tongue dared to poke at the button framed above your center. He must have liked the sound because he did it again and again, even going so far as to pushing the extra skin back and _sucking_.

You had growled. There was no other way to describe the animalistic choke of a noise that left your lips and rumbled your chest. You had growled his name out like a banshee, a wanton whore in the woods. Michael’s hand gripped your hip bones and dragged you to him as your body inched away at the overload of pleasure, sealing his mouth over you like a vacuum.

Your toes curled in sweet agony and you muttered sweet praises under your breath until you couldn’t form words and it turned into gook. You held onto the shag carpet for dear life as you felt your climax coming swift and sharp. You couldn’t breathe it felt so wonderful and it filled you with fear if only for a _second_ and then you were trembling again in his hands and telling him how good he was.

Your mouth kept opening and closing like a fish out of water and Michael wouldn’t _fucking_ stop. You dug your hands into his hair and yanked with all your might, the action, of course, doing much more harm than good. His eyes rolled back and he finally let you go, his chin wet with the leftovers of you. You sat up and forced him to your mouth, sucking as much pink from his lips as you could.

“Did I do good?” The cherub asked once you pulled away from him, “Did it feel good? Can I lick some more?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head in alarm, your skin prickling when he frowned. “You did great, Mikey.” You assured him quickly, pushing him back, “But I need a little break. We can do something else now.”

“Like what?” Michael questioned, holding himself up on his elbows to watch you curiously.

“You licked mine,” You started, echoing Dylan’s words from earlier, “Now I’ll lick yours.”

Michael’s cheeks were pink once again as you unzipped his shorts, tugging them down a bit before palming him through his red boxers. His hips shot up into your palm and you grinned, rubbing him more incessantly.

“I… oh.” The boy muttered raspily, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. You settled between his legs before tugging him out of his boxers and marveling at his pretty cock.

It was pink just like the rest of him.

“Oh Mikey,” You cooed, languidly jacking him off, “You’re a big boy.”

“Don’t…” The cherub choked, shuddering, “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not.” You assured, pressing a soft kiss to his shaft. His dick almost whacked you in the face and you laughed prettily, dragging your tongue over him. “Do you ever touch yourself, Michael?”

“Y-yes.” The boy admitted the sin, his knuckles turning white with how hard he gripped the carpet. “Yes.” He repeated more steadily.

“Whatcha think about?” You asked cheekily, knowing already as you took his head in your mouth and looked up at him. You hummed as you took more of him, a hand coming up to play with his balls. You sucked as you pulled up and Michael’s mouth fell open.

“Mikey,” You chided, clicking your tongue, “You didn’t answer me.”

“I…” The poor boy tried to start but you were flicking your tongue against the seam of his balls.

“Michael.” You sternly called, taking him in your hand and pumping. “You’re not being very good.”

“I-I think about you, Cherrie.” He admitted under his breath, his hips jerking, “And… And…”

“What?” You continued to push him, slowing your pace down painfully. His cock twitched in your hand and angry little seeds of precum dripped down his shaft.

“H-how it w-w-ould feel.” The beautiful blonde choked as you let go of him.

“How what would feel?”

“ _Cher_!” Michael begged, his eyes opening to widen at you. He pouted and you just crossed your arms, sitting on your heels.

“You’re being bad.” You accused and he shook his head, hastily sitting up.

“No, no I’ll be good.” Michael promised, his own hand creeping to his erection to provide some relief. “Please? I’ll be good.”

You stared at him harshly, “How what would feel, Michael?”

“Your cunt.” The boy spat out, his hand now moving fast along his shaft, “How your cunt would feel wrapped around my… my…”

“Your _cock_ , Michael.” You provided, leaning forward and connecting your lips. You pulled away from the kiss and replaced his hand with yours, “Your big, fat _cock_.”

The cherub moaned in front of you at the vulgar words, his hips thrusting into your hand. “Yes yes yes _yes_ …” He hissed, pressing his lips against yours again. “I want to _fuck_ your sweet cunt.” He choked out the admission, his teeth biting into your bottom lip, “I want to feel your wet walls all around me.”

“Mikey,” You mewled out, feeling his hips stutter and his thrusts became sloppy. “Come on, baby.”

With a deep groan that echoed through the both of your mouths, Michael’s hot spunk painted your skin and the carpet around you. You didn’t stop pumping until he was inching his hips away. “IloveyouIloveyou _Iloveyou_.” Michael rambled against your mouth and you laughed, wiping your hand on the carpet.

“Love you too, Mikey.” You giggled, putting on your shorts once again, “I gotta go before my mom gets home, call me later?”

Michael looked up at you with his wide blue eyes before nodding once. You looked down at him one last time. He was ravished, completely and utterly ravished and some of his cum had leaked onto his hips. His face was a boiling red now and his lips were bruised.

“Bye Mikey.” You called as you left, hearing a soft farewell in return. You swallowed thickly as soon as you were out of his house and under the hot sun.

Why were you teasing the devil so?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on my [fanfiction tumblr](http://deepett.tumblr.com/) , I answer questions and stuff and things.


	7. After

It was a date. 

At least, that’s how you felt as you tried to make your hair curl. You had tied ribbons around the strands, in a way that your mother used to when you were young but it didn’t work. So you just tied it up in a ponytail instead. 

You only had three dresses. Two of which Langdon had already seen. You wished for scissors to cut the hemlines short and the collars low, but you had no such luck. So you put on the only dress that showed at least  _ some _ semblance of cleavage. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled but it quickly faltered. You were so plain it made you sick. Quickly, you began to chew on your lips to add color to them. You kept your hair in its ponytail but tugged out two pieces by your ears and at the nape of your neck, making yourself appear more girlish. You splashed water on your face and lightly dabbed it away, giving your face a dewy appearance. 

You realized that you couldn’t stall anymore and with one final look at your reflection, you left your room. The trek to his office was slow and you deliberately tried to hold off as much as you could, as not to seem too eager. 

The big black double doors held your fate within them and you didn’t know if you were ready to look  _ that _ far. But you sure were excited for your last days. 

You raised your knuckles to knock but the door was opened before you could. 

“Hello.” Langdon greeted with his strange smile. 

“Hiya.” You replied as he stood to the side to let you in. You stepped past him and glanced around the room. It was darkly lit, the only real light coming from the large fireplace on the wall. The furniture was black and to your surprise, there was a MacBook on the back desk. There was a set of spiral stairs that led up to a place unknown, but you guessed it was where he slept. 

“Take a seat.” His voice sounded behind you and you did, sitting in an armchair in front of his large desk. 

You placed your hands in your lap as he walked around you and took a seat in his large chair, the crinkling of firewood echoing through the chamber. 

Langdon leaned forward, placing a hard, red candy on the desk. 

You looked at it with wide eyes, your mouth watering at the sight. Still, you held yourself back, instead clutching your hand. You removed your eyes from the delicacy and looked up at Langdon, who in turn nodded. 

“Go on.” He urged, sitting back in his chair. 

You tried to resist, you really did, but you nearly snatched the candy from the desk, unwrapping it and popping it in your watering mouth. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as you rolled the treat around your mouth, savoring the forgotten flavor. You hummed in delight at the taste, your hands fisting your skirt. 

“Thank you.” You muttered around the treat, opening your eyes. 

Langdon’s lips arched and he got up from his seat, his boots clicking against the marble. “We’ll start with a call and response. I’ll ask a question and you tell me the first thing that pops into your little head. Okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, keeping your eyes forward. 

“Good.” Langdon spoke from behind you, “Favorite color?”

You furrowed your brows, but answered anyway, “Red.”

“Deepest fear?”

You instantly answered, “Being alone.” 

“Favorite parent?”

“Mother.” You whispered sadly.  

“Favorite feature?”

“Eyes.” You muttered, feeling a little strange. You swallowed what was left of the candy and flexed your fingers, the appendages tingling. 

Langdon hummed, his steps languid and slow. “Very good.” He praised lowly, stopping in front of you and leaning against his desk. “Why are you here?”

You blinked up at the blonde, your eyes zeroing in on his features. The familiar feeling that nagged at the back of your mind returned in full and you squinted.

“I don’t know.” You whispered truthfully, shifting in your seat as you eyed him even more. 

“You surely don’t think it was by chance do you?” 

You furrowed your brows as a cherubic face flashed in your mind. It looked like Langdon. You came back to reality to see him watching you expectantly. “I don’t… I never thought about it.” 

“Were you wealthy?”

“No.” You shook your head, chewing on the inside of your cheek. 

“Then you must have been chosen,” Langdon muttered, tilting his head to the side. “Why do you think that was the case?”

“I’m not sure.” You blinked, putting a head to your head, “I feel strange-!”

“ _ Well _ ,” The blonde reached into his dark velvet dinner jacket, “Maybe you’re just  _ special _ .”

His words seemed far away now and your vision began to blur. You gripped the armrest of your chair and looked up at Langdon with wide eyes. “What did… did you do?” You slurred, your tongue swollen. 

“Cherrie,” Langdon’s voice called but he was suddenly gone, “Remember…”

“Remember... what…?” You whispered, closing your eyes to stop the room from spinning. You felt him trace something on your forehead with something wet and in the next moment; you lost your mind. 

“Langdon!” You called helplessly, holding on to the chair for dear life as black flooded your vision. 

_ “No.” _

“ _ Langdon _ !” You screamed again, your hands cradling your head as your mind began to split in two. 

_ “Who am I?”  _ The man simply questioned you. 

You let out a choked screech, falling from the chair to your knees, your hands touching something wet against the marble. 

You felt as if the ground was going to swallow you whole as your brain began to cave in on itself. Your whole body vibrated with unknown power and as you were on the verge of passing out, it happened. You threw your head back and your eyes flashed bright white. 

You barely registered the snakes slithering from your skirt and wrapping around your body; or the hands that caressed your cheeks. 

“Michael.” You finally muttered in realization right before you blacked out. 


	8. (A Very Special) Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just feel filthy guys. Just gross. I hope ya'll feel filthy too.

Fall came sooner than the two of you would have liked. 

You felt the tale tell sign of the days having a slight breeze to them and you knew that you would have to go back to school, leaving your days of lounging with Michael behind. It bothered you but you had to go. 

You still had a few more days left of summer, a week to be more precise and you had made a very rash decision; you were going to take Michael’s virginity. You had thought about it every day, lying in bed at night dreaming about his face between your thighs. You wanted to be the one that did because after your last year of school, who knows when you would see him again. Or  _ if _ you would even see him again. 

The boy had grown to be your favorite person in the world. Between the night walks, the shared cigarettes, the walkie talkies, the secret phone conversations,  _ all of it _ had made you an addict. A Michael Langdon addict. You remembered the first time he grabbed your hand under the stars, and it made your heart flutter.  _ He _ made your heart flutter. 

Smiling softly to yourself, you reclined further in your lawn chair. You were in your front yard catching the last of the sun’s ray before your first day of school next week. You were dressed in your jean shorts and a red bandeau top, very comfortable in the light heat. You took a sip of your iced tea and watched behind your rose tinted glasses as the black car across the street backed out of the driveway, the driver casting you a wicked look. Throwing your middle finger up, you laid back down, lighting a stolen cigarette and relaxing. Right on time, you heard the door across the street slam and the familiar excited footfalls of your best friend padding towards you. You pretending not to notice and took a drag from your cigarette, pouting playfully when it was stolen from your fingers. 

“Hey!” You called, sprouting up and glaring at Michael. 

“Hiya.” Michael greeted and you hid your grin; he had begun using your words. He took a drag from the cigarette and blew the smoke out the side of his mouth like you, then took a seat on your lawn chair. “What are you doing, mon cherie?”

You grinned widely, snatching the cigarette from his hands, “Catching some sun.” You said like a hippy, laughing to yourself, “The California sun has healing abilities, don'tcha know?”

“No.” Michael replied, squinting up at it, “It’s too hot for me.”

You rolled your eyes, flicking him on the nose, “That’s because you’re a human furnace.” 

The boy shrugged and you laid back once again, this time putting your legs in his lap. “I’m gonna lay here for a few more minutes then we can do something.”

“Okay.” Michael agreed and you couldn’t see him but you knew he was staring at you. You heard the ice in your cup jingle and the sound of liquid through a straw. You knew he took a sip but didn’t mind; the two of you had shared way more than  _ drinks _ together. You relaxed against the flimsy chair and sighed in content, resting for just a moment. 

...Only for you to jump out your skin when Michael put a cube of ice on your bare belly. 

“You ass!” You exclaimed, hitting Michael on the shoulder as he laughed, loud and full. You glared at the boy and took the ice off your stomach, putting it in his shirt instead. Michael didn’t even flinch, for as soon as the ice hit his skin it melted to nothing. 

You blinked before dismissing it, “Homeschool.” 

Michael smiled at you then, his teeth peeking just a bit behind his stretched lips and you bit your own, clutching your legs to you. “I have school next week.” You informed him, wiggling your toes. 

Michael’s smile dropped and his eyes saddened. “Oh.” He mouthed with his hair in his eyes. 

“Yeah.” You nodded before smiling, “So we gotta do all our fun stuff now.” Michael’s smile didn’t return and you were sorry you even mentioned it now. “Come on.” You urged, getting up from your lawn chair and grabbing Michael’s hand. You led him into your house, closing the door behind the two of you, and up to your room. There, the two of you laid on your floor and stared at the ceiling as one of your old records played on your vinyl player. 

“Let’s play the question game.” Michael suggested, not looking at you. 

“Okay.” You agreed though you peeked at him. 

“Are you going to leave me?” Michael outright asked and you furrowed your brow, sitting up. 

“Of course not, Mikey.” You uttered, worry in your bones, “Why would you even ask that?” 

Michael still did not look at you, “I don’t know. My turn again, once you go to school will you stop talking to me?”

“Michael stop.” You demanded with a scowl, “Look at me.” 

The cherub of a boy did the opposite, stubbornly. You rolled your eyes and leaned over him, trying to force your way. He closed his eyes instead. “You’re being bad.” You teasingly hummed, crawling over his body on your hands and knees. 

“No.” Michael spat, pushing you off of him. You fell on your butt and looked up at him in disbelief. “You’re going to leave me just like everyone else.” He snapped the accusation, full of venom before his eyes fell. “I’m a monster.”

_ “Don’t.” _ You warned, sitting on your knees. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“I am.” Michael insisted as you saw tears began to fall down his cheeks. “That’s why everyone leaves me.” The blonde choked in a sob, “But I won’t let you leave.” As tears streamed down his face, the temperature in your bedroom began to rise, a strange energy swirling around. 

“Michael…” You called as the lights began to flicker. To your horror, things around your room began to levitate around you.  _ “Michael!” _  You then snapped desperately, your breath catching as your body was suddenly lifted in the air. You screamed and kicked as you were suspended in the air, your hat falling from your head. 

The blonde’s face was blank as tears ran down his face. He stared at nothing and for a moment, you thought you saw a white face replace his. 

You fought against nothing as much as you could when an unseen force began to slither up your body like a snake. Your limbs ceased movement as they were pinned to your body, the invisible snake constricting around you. You opened your mouth to scream again but your eyes widened when you realized you couldn’t breathe. Your eyes began to grow heavy and as you began to lose consciousness, your only thought was a plea to Michael. 

It was black and you could hear a voice far away from you. 

_ “I’m sorry.”  _

_ “I didn’t mean to.” _

_ “I can be good, I promise I’ll be good-!” _

You felt your body being rocked back and forth and your eyes twitched as something wet fell on your face. You groaned and your eyes flickered open, seeing Michael’s tear-stained face leaning over you. 

“Cherrie?” The blonde hiccuped, hugging you to his chest. “I’m so sorry. Don’t be mad at me.”

“Michael,” You whispered into his neck, still in a daze, “What did you do?” 

“I didn’t mean to,” Michael whispered back, cradling you in his arms. “I couldn’t control it, I-!”

“Your face…” You trailed with furrowed brows, “It wasn’t… your face…”

“I’ll never do it again, okay?” The blonde choked, “I’ll never hurt you again. I’ll be good and we can be together and it won’t matter that I’m the antichrist and we-!”

“Michael.” You interjected, out of your daze and thinking clearly, “What did you just say?”

“I’m sorry.” Michael instantly hiccuped, rocking you even more insistently, “I’m sorry, I should have told you but I thought you wouldn’t like me if I-! I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me, you’re my best friend.”

“Stop crying.” You muttered, sitting up, only to flinch. Michael quickly put a hand to the back of your head, his palm warming and the pain subsiding. 

“I’m so-!”

“Stop apologizing.” You snapped and he flinched away from you, sniffling. “Sorry.” You then muttered, rubbing your eyes. 

“You might have a concussion,” Michael stated, cradling your head once again. “I’m-!” A glare in his direction made him shut up. “You shouldn’t sleep for a while.”

You groaned loudly, more annoyed than anything else, “Great.” The blonde flinched again and you sighed, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “I’m not mad, Mikey. I promise.”

“Okay.” The cherub uttered, before lifting you up. “Here you go.” He whispered as he placed you down on your bed. He tucked you into your blankets and walked away. 

In those few seconds that he wasn’t watching you, your lids fell. You felt him get into bed with you and ignored it until you heard the tell-tale crinkling of a candy wrapper. You peeked an eye open and he grinned, putting the lollipop in his mouth. 

“I’ll keep you awake, Cher.” He promised, offering the pop to you. 

You sleepily blinked before your lips spread in a small smile. You opened your mouth and allowed him to slide the treat into it. You closed your lips around the stick as he watched, only a hair away. Your eyes began to flutter closed again before Michael’s voice woke you up.

“You’re my best friend.” Michael whispered to you sweetly and you smiled sleepily. 

“You’re my best friend, too, Mikey.” You muttered back around the stick, eyes still closed. You heard shuffling and felt Michael nuzzle his nose against yours. 

“Wake up, Cherrie.” The blonde hummed, his breath against your lips. You groaned and shook your head, pout on your lips. Michael’s hand slipped around your waist and began to stroke your bare back, nuzzling his nose against yours again. “You’re so pretty and soft.” He wiggled his fingers against your spine and you snorted, trying to push him away. 

“Wake up!” He retorted, snapping your top against your skin. You flinched, your eyes finally opening to glare at the blonde. He grinned toothily at his triumph, pulling the lollipop from your mouth and tracing your spine lightly. “Tell me a secret.”

“A secret?” You croaked, furrowing your brows. You looked into his eyes and had to squint, as the blue was shining so bright. “I don’t have-!” You stopped yourself, biting your lip. You caught the way he moved even closer toward you and you sighed, thinking a moment before speaking, “I already knew who you were before you told me.”

Michael’s playful smile fell and he furrowed his brows, “How?” He questioned, his tone serious as his fingers stilled on your back.

You felt the temperature began to rise under your blankets and hurried to explain, “When we first met you visited me in my dreams but it wasn’t  _ you,  _ it was future you and you said all these things and I…” You trailed before shaking your head, “I knew. I just didn’t want to make you feel different. Well,  _ more different.” _

Michael was quiet, but you were not worried because it was cool once more. His eyes averted from yours and his voice was barely audible as he whispered, “You never made me feel different.” 

“Good.” You retorted, nudging at his socked feet with your bare ones. You closed your eyes and snuggled against your pillow once more. You were on the cusp of sleep when you felt lips press against yours hotly. 

Your eyes widened and your heart began to race. He tasted like sweet candy as he nudged his tongue against yours, just as you had taught him. His legs tangled with yours and he pressed against you so tight that you began to sweat at the heat. 

When he pulled away your lips had a tingling burn that began to spread through your whole body. The kiss had caused goosebumps to rise on your arms and your lashes flutter. 

It was the first time he had ever kissed you on his own and it literally set your  _ soul _ on fire. 

You chewed on your lip as your chest heaved against his. His blue eyes were blown to black and you became acutely aware of your half-nakedness in that moment.

You swallowed thickly, fully awake as you were pushed on your back and Michael climbed on top of you. “Michael…” You hiccuped as he pulled you further down the bed. Your legs were spread open and in the next moment, your jeans were off. 

You choked back a gasp as you were folded in half and Michael put his mouth on you. You unconsciously tried to shift away from the boy but the force that controlled you earlier, pinned your body to the mattress. 

_ “Michael _ . _ ” _ You hissed as he lifted up your bottom half, his tongue flicking against your clit. His fingers dug into your skin roughly, the sounds of your whining mixing with his moans. He pulled away then, his chin shining. 

“I wanna do something fun.” The cherub rasped, licking you from his lips. 

“What?” You whispered, your chest heaving as he got off the bed. You were still pinned to the mattress, though your knees were allowed to straighten, and you couldn’t see what was going on. 

You heard the crinkle of a wrapper before Michael laid next to you on the bed again, another lollipop in his hand. He held it to your lips and you opened your mouth, eyes widening as he dragged it over your tongue. He did this few more times before pressing it further down your throat, making you gag. 

Michael leaned down and licked the spit pooling out of your mouth, moaning as he pulled the pop out. “You taste so sweet.” He groaned before popping the treat in his mouth. The boy climbed over you then, straddling your hips as his hands groped at your chest. 

“Michael.” You moaned with a pout, “Let me go.”

With a flick of his wrist, the hold on you was gone and you were leaning up to press your lips against his closed ones, whining as the pop sat between your lips, spit pooling around your mouths. You gripped Michael’s hair in your hand, tugging it and he groaned prettily, the treat falling between you. 

“Did you have fun being in charge?” You questioned darkly, slowly pushing Michael off of you, “Huh?” You insisted as you tugged on his hair again. 

“Y-yeah.” Michael stammered, his new assertiveness forgotten as you climbed on top of him. You picked up the lollipop and shoved it in his mouth, spreading your legs and grinding on his lap. He gagged around it as he took hold of your hips, dragging you against him tighter. 

“Suck it, Mikey.” You demanded, your own breath hitching, “Let me see that pretty tongue.”

Michael looked up at you with tears lining his eyes, his cheeks pretty and pink as he stuck out his tongue like you said. You beat the lollipop against his tongue and smeared it over his lips.

You were having  _ way _ too much fun. 

“Such a sweet boy.” You cooed, palming him through his jean shorts.  _ “My  _ baby boy.”

Michael nodded beneath you, his hips bucking against your hand. “Y-your baby boy.” He repeated in a whine, his hands clutching the blanket beneath him. 

“Mikey I bet I know something you don’t.” You teased, your lips pouting as you tugged at his shorts. The blonde furrowed his brows but said nothing as you slid his shorts down his legs. 

“You see boys,” You started, shoving the lollipop in his mouth, “Have a special spot inside of them, too.” You puckered your lips as you took off his boxers. “D’you wanna know where it is?”

“Y-yes, please.” Michael hiccuped around the sucker and you smiled sweetly, pecking the fat head of his cock. You trailed your tongue down his shaft and back up again, taking him in your mouth before pressing a finger against his tight hole.

You heard Michael’s breath hitch and sucked harder, pushing past his tight barrier. He tensed up and you took your mouth off him to soothe him, “It’s okay, Mikey,” You cooed, your sweet tone contrasting against the dirty deed, “It’s okay.” His cock twitched in your other hand and you smiled, pressing your lips against his closed ones and hooking your finger upwards. 

Michael nearly melted as you slowly jacked him off and fingered his tight hole. You felt him tense and knew that he was already close. Letting go of his cock, you grabbed one of his hands and placed it there, guiding him into doing what you were. You reached between the two of you and rubbed your clit, moaning in turn with him. 

You saw his breath quicken and the hand on his cock sped up as you lowered your head and stuck out your tongue, licking at his prick as he pumped it. He faltered for a moment but with a buck of his hips, he was coming in your mouth. 

You swallowed what you could, but a lot of it dripped down the sides of your mouth. As you neared towards your own release, you were pulled up by Michael, his hand replacing the one between your legs as he pressed his lolli free lips against yours. 

Michael swallowed all of your moans and groans, his fingers quickening against your button. You disconnected your lips and buried your head into his neck as you came, shuddering against him. 

It only took another second for his cock to swell against your stomach again. “Cher,” Michael started, sliding his wet hand up your back, “I-!”

You pulled yourself up and straddled him once more, taking the lollipop from his hands and sucking on it. “What?” You cooed, batting your lashes. “What do you want, baby?” 

“Please let me inside you.” The cherub begged, his voice strangled as his hands gripped your hips,  _ “Please.”  _

“I dunno,” You frowned facetiously, trying not to moan as he dragged your wet cunt against his length, “You were pretty bad today.”

Michael frowned, his brows furrowing as he continued to rut against you. You led his hands to your breasts and squeezed them, making the blonde hiccup. 

“Why should I let you have  _ anything?” _ You snapped teasingly, rolling your hips against his. 

Michael’s eyes were blurry with tears and his lips were a bruising red. His nostrils flared and he whined,  _ “ _ I’ll be good,  _ mama.”  _

Your ministrations ceased and you stared down at Michael with wide eyes. His erection twitched below you and your lashes fluttered, “That’s new…” You muttered as he stammered.

“Please don’t stop.” Michael whined the plea, his eyes watering. “I didn’t mean to. I won’t say it a-!” He choked on his last word as you gripped him once again. 

Sliding the sucker in your mouth, you rubbed it against his lips, getting them nice and red before shoving it in his mouth again. 

_ “You’re filthy, Mikey.” _ You mocked as you rolled your thumb over his head.  _ “Disgusting.” _

You sat up and positioned yourself over him, nudging at your entrance with his head, “Oh Mikey,” You breathed, watching him shake with anticipation. 

_ “Who’s your mommy?” _

Before you could even lower yourself on to him, Michael hips bucked and his hand clamped on your hips, thrusting into you roughly as instinct took over. “Uh,  _ fuck.” _ Michael swore and your stomach fluttered at the sound. You took the sucker from his mouth and placed it in yours, rolling it around your tongue as he watched with blurry eyes. 

Yanking him up by his shirt, you then tugged it over his head, wanting to feel his skin on yours. He did the same with your bandeau top and soon the both of you were bare, skin sliding against skin. 

The sounds coming from Michael’s mouth were delicious and if you could bake them in a cake and eat them, you would. You grounded you cunt against him experimentally and he  _ hissed,  _ thrusting into you as deep as he could. 

The sucker in your mouth was ripped out and Michael tugged at your hair, forcing your head down to press his lips to yours. 

Everything was so  _ hot. _ It burned your body and sweat rolled over your skin to join the bodily fluids on your blanket. It felt so  _ good _ . It was easily the best sex you had ever had and probably will ever have in your life, and as the angel below you rolled his hips toward you, you felt your second climax building. 

It seemed Michael sensed it too, as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, slowing down to snap his hips up sharply. You choked and his lips spread in a smirk against yours. 

“Michael,” You, in turn, plead for something, anything. You bit down on his bottom lip and he groaned, his grip bruising. 

“You’re so wet,” Michael muttered, nuzzling his nose against yours, “You’re dripping all over me-!” His breath hitched and you pecked his lips, your body tensing.

“Michael, I’m…” You tried, as tears lined your vision,  _ “God _ .” 

Michael nuzzled against your exposed neck, nipping at your skin,  _ “Satan.” _ He retorted, gripping your hair and pulling your head to the side. He sunk his teeth into your neck and you screamed, your body convulsing against his. 

Your eyes rolled back into your head and you cried out Michael’s name over and over, grinding your hips against his. “Michael,” You sobbed, as he pressed his lips against yours again, “Fuck, I love you.” You mouthed, your breath being taken away once more. 

Michael’s hips stuttered and you felt his cum dripping from your cunt, as the two of you laid there breathing heavily. You felt lightheaded but you didn’t dare move, too comfortable against Michael’s neck. 

You traced random shapes against Michael’s perfect skin, pressing your lips against his throat. “How was it?” You croaked, your throat dry from his cum, “Was it everything Miss Mead said it was?” You teased, laughing as he half-heartedly nudged you. 

“Shut up.” He mumbled, his fingers tracing your spine. You laughed even louder and listened to his heartbeat. 

“Your heart is beating so fast.” You informed him as if he didn’t know. 

“You said you loved me.” Michael murmured and you stilled. You chewed on your bottom lip but said nothing. “Do,” He stammered, swallowing thickly, “Do you? L-love me?”

You held your breath and sat up, looking into Michael’s eyes. “Yeah.” You replied shortly, a small smile on your lips, “I do.”

Michael brushed his knuckles against your cheek, his eyes searching yours for a quiet moment. “I think I loved you from the first time I saw you.” He admitted lowly and you smiled, tears lining your eyes. One fell down your cheek and Michael wiped it away with his thumb, making you laugh. 

“I’ll never leave you.” You promised, leaning up to nuzzle your nose against his. “Ever. No matter what, Mikey.” You cheekily lifted your pinkie and he grinned hooking his with yours. 

“Me neither.” Michael chimed and the two of you kissed your hands as a promise. 

“I love you.” You smiled brightly, pecking his lips. 

“I love you more.” The cherub said back, his smile small but his eyes shining. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We cracked 1000 views!! But only 12 comments? Ya'll are trying it!


	9. After

You sat up in your bed drenched in sweat. The dimmed light in your room informed you of it being morning and you furrowed your brows.

Had it all been a weird dream?

You continued to ponder on those thoughts as you got dressed for the day. As you were adjusting your stockings there was a knock at your door. Furrowing your brows, you padded to the door and opened it. Miss Venable’s dark eyes leered at you and without even asking she pushed her way into your room. 

“Morning.” You greeted, shutting the door behind her, nerves already on edge. 

“Good morning.” Miss Venable replied, her cane dragging against the floor as she turned to face you. Something akin to a smile spread across her dark lips, “I heard you had your interview last night.”

The wash of realization flooded over you and your lashes fluttered, your hand going to the back of your neck. Silently, you confirmed her statement with a nod.

“How did it go?” The woman then questioned, taking a seat on your bed. 

“Fine.” You replied shortly, your fingers burning as they connected with your mark. You quickly removed them, folding your hands in front of you. 

Miss Venable smiled wider, her teeth peeking from her painted lips. “What did you talk about?” 

“I’m not allowed to say.” You hurried to retort, a little too sharp. Her eyes narrowed at you and you looked down, swallowing thickly. 

“Well, it must have gone well,” Miss Venable mocked you, standing from your bed. You heard her cane drag against the floor and her feet were in your vision in a second. Her fingers pinched at your chin as she forced your head up, her dark eyes on yours, “For you to have  _ forgotten _ your place here.”

“I have no place.” You whispered and she chuckled darkly. 

“Oh but you do, child.” She grinned, before her finger trailed down your cheek, “You’re the ant beneath my boot.” Her eyes flickered down to your lips, “And I do intend to crush you.”

You swallowed thickly, shaking your head, “Why do you hate me so much? I’ve done nothing to you.”

“Dear,” Miss Venable cooed, forcing your head to the side as her nails dug into your skin, “You’re perfect.” She complimented, examining your face, “And I  _ hate _ you for it.” She hissed, roughly letting go of your face. The woman stepped back from you, regaining the semblance of propriety she claimed to have, muttering, “He won’t save you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” You whispered, clutching your own fingers. 

“He’s handsome,” Venable started, turning to examine your room, “Tall, blue eyes, strong. He’s promising you salvation,” She pouted mockingly, “But he’ll only use it as a way to get in your panties-!”

“That’s you.” You accused in your mind, though it seemed to have drifted past your lips. Regret instantly filled you as she walked to you once more, her face coming terribly close to yours.

“How’s your back?” She questioned with a sick smile, “Has it healed yet?” You didn’t feed into her teasing, only glowering at your feet. “Or how about the lashes on your soft,” She paused as she lifted your skirt even higher, “Cheeks?”

“Don’t touch me!” You finally snapped, pushing her away from you. The woman smiled brightly, her eyes moving over your shoulder, “Hello Miss Mead.” Your head whipped around but it was too late, you were already being dragged out of your room by her henchwomen.

Tears fell down your cheeks as you found yourself in the basement of the outpost, clothes being yanked from your body. 

“I had such high hopes that you learned your lesson.” Venable’s mocking voice called from a corner of the room as you were strung up to the ceiling. “But it seems that your head is still hard. Fifteen lashes should do.”

You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the pain. You heard the sound of the whip through the air and tensed, only for a voice to ring through the basement. 

_ “Stop.” _

Everything froze,  _ literally. _ Save for the footfalls of boots coming towards you, it was silent. Even the fire pit had stopped in mid flame, its shadow facing you on the wall. Soft hands brushed against your wrists as you were untied, nearly collapsing but strong arms held you up. You clutched the velvet dinner jacket in front of you before looking past it, seeing Venable frozen in mid-whip. 

“I have you, mon cheri,” Langdon muttered to you, lifting you up like a bride. Overwhelmed and relieved, your lids flutter closed and you lost consciousness.  

You awoke to an immense feeling of warmth and silk. You were on a plush bed and fingers trailed up and down your arm soothingly. You slowly opened your eyes and met a bright blue gaze. 

Langdon… no,  _ Michael, _ was lying beside you on his side, dressed impeccably as always. His fingers didn’t stop as you stared and his lips spread in a smile, but it wasn’t the tight one you had grown used to, but the genuine one from your new memories. 

Your memories… all of it was back. The cherub of a boy that lived across the street from you was the antichrist and your mate in Satan and he had come back to retrieve you from this prison. 

“Michael,” You croaked, your throat dry. 

“Hello, mon cheri.” The blonde smirked, his hand moving to your waist. “How do you feel?”

“Thirsty.” You admitted. You watched in amazement as with a flourish of his hand a golden goblet appeared. He held it out for you and you took it, sitting up and greedily gulping the water down. A few stray drops rolled down your chin and Michael wiped them away with his thumb. 

You sighed in relief and glanced over at Michael to see the blonde already watching you adoringly. 

“How could I have not remembered you?” You whispered, your hand reaching out to trace along his angular jawline. 

“I had to take certain  _ precautions.” _ He replied, his eyes dancing along your face, “People were after me and they would’ve hurt you.”

“Still,” You pouted, breath hitching as he ran his finger along the mark seared into the back of your neck. You closed your eyes as it burned against his touch. “I missed you and didn’t even know who you were.” 

“I missed you, too.” Michael admitted, soothing away the burn with his fingers. “So much, Cher.”

You hummed and let him ease the pain away, your feet nudging against his. You opened your eyes and smiled at him, reaching for his hair and twirling a curl around your finger. 

“Do you like it?” The blonde questioned, smoothing a hand over your arm. 

You smiled and let out a laugh, “It’s so long.”

“I use that eyeshadow you used to wear.” He admitted, gesturing to his eyes, “I have a case.”

“You’re still beautiful, Michael.” You assured in a light tease and his eyes shined for you. 

“Mon Cheri,” Michael nearly sang in a sigh, “I’m so happy that you are by my side again.”

“Stop being so sweet.” You muttered, pressing your forehead against his.

“I’m not the sweet one.” Michael retorted suggestively and you laughed, pressing forward to kiss him. 

It was interrupted by a knock on the door downstairs. Michael’s eyes narrowed and he sighed in annoyance, disappearing from the bed all at once. You barely heard him talking below and you got up from the bed to creep toward the stairs. 

Venable was down there and she was not happy about something. Your heart rate raised and you clutched the railing in your hand, panic rising within you. You couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying but it didn’t matter, as the door closed just a second later.

In the next moment, a hand was over your fist on the banister, easing your palm off of it. Michael brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing them against your skin. He cupped your cheek with his other hand, his thumb brushing against your lips. The affections calmed you instantly and you smiled, leaning into his warmth. 

“There’s nothing to fear.” He muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, “I will kill them all.”

“Not your precious Mead.” You retorted and he tutted, pinching your waist. 

“Be nice.” 

You rolled your eyes but a smile tugged at your lips. “How did the old bag survive anyway?” 

“She didn’t.” Michael murmured, his fingertips gliding up your spine through your nightgown. “She’s a cyborg.”

A laugh bubbled past your lips and you shook your head, “You’re kidding…”

Michael, in turn, shook his head silently, his focus had seemed to move from his pseudo-mother to every detail of your face. His stare reminded you of all those times you caught him looking when you were younger, there was a point that he stopped turning away, and it felt like one of those moments. 

“You’re staring.” You informed him, echoing the younger you.

“You’re beautiful.” He retorted, echoing the younger him.

It still caused your face to warm and you had to look away. Your chin was gently gripped and your eyes were forced to his once again. A hand gripped your waist and brought you even closer. With one last look, your lips met and you were whole again. The candle flames around the room soared and sweat beaded at your brow. He tasted like smoke, burned and charred, just as his touch burned you. 

Michael pulled away from the kiss but still stayed close, leaning his forehead against yours. “We need to give thanks to my father.” 

“You know I’m squeamish.” You muttered against his lips, nonetheless asking, “Who?”

The blonde smiled, nuzzling his nose against yours, “It’s already taken care of.” He pressed his lips against yours again and your lashes fluttered closed, melting into the kiss. 

When you disconnected, you were in the basement again, only this time one of Venable’s henchwomen was tied to the ceiling and disemboweled, her blood dripping to the floor. A dusky red pentagram was already drawn and candles surrounded it, flickering softly.

Michael began to strip himself of his beautiful clothing, throwing it on the floor in a heap. He kneeled in the bloody sign, reaching his hand out to you. You took off your nightgown then allowed him to drag you down in front of him. 

You took the dagger that sat between the two of you and Michael presented you with his forearms. Not looking away from his eyes, you dug the blade into his flesh, blood beading as you ran it down his skin. You repeated the same step with his other arm and as his blood hit the pentagram, smoke began to rise.

You handed Michael the dagger and presented your wrists, hissing as he sliced into your skin. He dropped the blade with a clang and you held your bleeding wrists over him, the mixture of your blood bubbling as it hit the pentagram.

Snakes began to surround the two of you, looping in a circle of protection as the candles flames around you grew higher and higher. 

“Ave Satanas.” You both murmured as one and you made the first stroke of blood on Michael’s skin, smearing it across his chest. You both chanted again and Michael drug his hand down your cheek and to your chest. 

Taking turns, you were soon both covered in your sacrifice. Somehow you had found yourself in Michael’s lap and as he reached for the organ that would conclude the last step of the ritual, you nuzzled against his cheek, the iron painting your lips like rouge. 

Michael held the heart between the two of you, his blue eyes staring beautifully back at you. You licked your lips and leaned close, taking a bite out of the raw meat just as he did. It didn’t take long for him to drop the organ and bite at your lips instead. 

You moaned as the taste of metal and Michael danced on your tongue. The wounds you both made at the beginning of the ritual had long healed and as you wrapped your arms around his neck, you felt his hardness against you bare cunt. 

Michael’s fingers traced the scars Venable had left behind on your back and you pulled away from his lips, ashamed. Your lover didn’t frown however, he smiled, his teeth stained a watery red, “I don’t remember you being so  _ shy.” _ He teased and you pouted, nuzzling your nose against his hair. 

“Don’t be mean.” You retorted, sounding like he used to. “And  _ don’t  _ forget I taught you everything you know.” 

“I learned a few more tricks in your absence.” Michael murmured, brushing his lips against your throat, “And I think you’ll like them.”

_ “Show me.” _ You whispered, grinding against his lap. “Please.”

Michael hummed, his hand reaching between the two of you and cupping your cunt. “I can smell you through all the carnage.” He rasped, pressing his palm against your clit and rubbing slow circles. “Do you still taste like cherries?”

Your eyes closed and you buried your head in his neck, your body melting in his arms. It had been the first time someone had touched you so intimately in so long, you almost came from the pressure. 

“Michael…” You whined, your hips moving on their own. He hummed an affirmative before prodding at your entrance with two fingers, easily sliding them inside of you. Your breath caught in your throat as he arched hem upwards, nudging against that spongy part inside of you. He dragged out his digits before doing it again and again, his pace not speeding up. 

All you could do was mouth against his throat as he slowly pulled your first orgasm of the night out of you. It didn’t take long and soon you were twitching in his arms, his name on your lips. 

You were warm and sated and as Michael laid you down on the pentagram you felt a power surge through you. The snakes widened their circle and you welcomed Michael down with you, wrapping your legs around his hips. He pressed his lips against yours hotly before gently removing your legs and turning you over to your belly. 

Michael lifted your ass in the air, smoothing the blood against your back. He leaned his body over yours, kissing the top of your spine before pressing his lips against your mark. 

Your body felt like it was on  _ fire. _

Your lover traced the three numbers seared in your neck with his tongue, his hand creeping between your legs again. You tried to inch away from the stimulation but Michael roughly pulled you back, slapping a hand against your ass. 

“Be good.” He warned, increasing the circles around your clit, “You were being so  _ good.” _

“I’m-!” You tried hiccuped out an apology but he was already trailing down your spine with sloppy kisses. Your hips bucked and Michael grabbed them, much to your dismay. 

Your disappointment was short-lived, however, as his cockhead now nudged against your clit. You whined, but couldn’t move as he tortured you, precum and blood running down your legs.

_ “Fuck me.”  _ You pleaded, hands slipping against the stained marble. 

“You’re very rude.” Michael muttered back, beating his cock against your labia, “When I used to ask you to fuck me I always said  _ ‘Please _ .’” 

“Please,” You choked out in a sob, your vision blurry,  _ “Please _ fuck me, Mikey.”

Be it the sentiment of the nickname or the pleasure of your begging, Michael shoved his cock into you to its hilt. You gasped and desperately tried to grab a hold of something, your abdomen throbbing. You were so full and stretched and you almost thought you wouldn’t be able to take it. 

But then Michael started moving. His grip was slippery but his fingers still burned as he pulled you back to meet every thrust. 

Your moans echoed through the room and you felt Michael fall against your back, his hand creeping down your belly to your clit. His other hand clutched your outstretched one as your bodies defiled the marks on the ground. 

The wet sound of your skin slapping together added to the heat of the moment, the two of you becoming one once more. Your eyes widened as Michael stretched you open even more, adding two fingers to your cunt as he fucked you. 

“Michael.” You blubbered, tears lining your eyes, “I can’t make it, I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna-!” You felt his teeth sink into your shoulder and it was over. 

You came with a hoarse scream against the marble, your eyes rolling in your head. Your body went limp against the floor but you did not have time to rest, as Michael wrapped his arm around your body and lifted the two of you up, your back flush against his chest. 

Your thighs burned at the new position and your legs felt like jelly but as Michael pressed his bloody forearm against your neck, your cunt tightened against his cock again. 

You couldn’t breathe but you tried, “Michael, I can’t again, please don’t make me cum again.” You begged, eyes rolling as he stroked your clit. His blonde hair fell over you like a wet curtain and you felt the urge to yank it. 

So you did. 

_ “F-fuck _ .” Michael stammered, his hips stuttering as well. You gave his locks another tug and his whole body shuddered, his balls drawing tight beneath your ass. You grinned at your victory but it was short-lived, for as Michael began to cum, he beat his fingers against your clit roughly causing you to spasm once more. 

The both of you fell over in a heap, cum dripping from where you were joined. The snakes disappeared and the flames of the candles blew out, leaving the two of you in darkness. 

As you rolled onto your back to stare at the marble ceiling, Michael crawled over to you, laying his head on your chest. You were both filthy, in more ways than one, and as you ran your fingers through his beautiful hair you couldn’t help but smile. 

For you had your Mikey back.

  
  
  



	10. Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys! Enjoy.

It was a cool fall day when Michael Langdon left you. 

It was without a sound, word, or letter. You had to find out through your bitchy neighbor that Michael had been sent to boarding school and the smirk that spread across her face before she slammed the door in yours stung. 

Time fell forward like he never left. The nights had a breeze and your denim shorts turned into bell bottoms. You still kept your baby tees though, only you wore a jean jacket over them. 

Your senior year had started off with a bang. You were voted homecoming queen, you got accepted into your first choice university and your popularity was at an all-time high. Your mother was ecstatic and you were, too, but all of your successes were bittersweet.

You missed Michael every day. You hadn’t even had the luxury of seeing him in your dreams, though sometimes you could feel him around you. You’d be alone and a light touch would brush against your cheek or your hand and you would smile but no one would be there. You also were missing panties from your drawer...

You knew he watched over you. 

The bell rang and you nearly ran out of the building, tote bag on your shoulder. You adjusted your sun hat on your head and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it as your wedges hit the pavement. 

Lucky for you, you didn’t have to steal them anymore. You blew a steady stream of smoke as you made your way home, music flowing through your ears. You rounded the corner of your block and a familiar black car slowed down beside you. 

“Hiya.” You greeted as the window lowered, revealing a dark lipped Miss Mead. 

“Girl.” Mead nodded back, “I’m looking for Michael, have you seen him?”

“No.” You hurriedly answered, “Not since you shipped him off to the middle of buttfuck, nowhere.” 

The woman’s eyes narrowed, “You disgusting little-!”

“I haven’t seen him; end of story.” You snapped, turning on your heel, “Good luck with your search.”

You marched away from the car with your head high, enjoying the rest of your cigarette. You only got a few feet away before you were yanked back and a cloth was placed over your nose and mouth. You screamed and kicked but it was muffled. The last thing you saw was Mead’s smirk. 

Your wrists were burning. That was the first thing you noticed. The second thing was how cold you were. Your back was against a cold slab of marble and the only thing that covered your body was red silk. Your ankles were bound just like your wrists and when you finally opened your eyes, you found yourself surrounded by people in red robes. When you tried to speak, you noticed that you had been gagged by a rag. 

Panic pricked at your skin and you were now fully conscious. 

“Ave Satanas…” The people around you drawled as a figure drew something on your forehead. “Ave Satanas…”

Your eyes widened and something was sprinkled on to your body, warm and thick. A man spoke over you in a foreign tongue from a black book, as candles burned around your body. 

“What the fuck?” You mumbled against your gag, fear filling you. 

The sound of a heavy door opening stopped the chanting and you tugged against your confines, your eyes widening. You were left in the dark as footfalls came toward you, stopping just out of your line of sight. A blonde head leaned over you and you tilted your head in confusion. 

It was Michael but he looked so different.  He had an air of authority and it reminded you of the future him. He seemed so much older, like he had aged within the months you were apart. He was dressed immaculately in black and white. His hair was combed and parted to the side and there was a tight smile on his lips as his knuckles brushed against your cheek. 

Michael gingerly reached behind your head, untying the rag from your mouth. You heaved out a breath, saying nothing as he moved away from you. 

“Leave us.” With those words, the room was cleared and you heard the doors close. Michael untied your wrists and ankles and you sat up, clutching your sheet to you. 

“Michael.” You breathed, searching his blue eyes. “What is this? Are you going to kill me?”

The blonde laughed, the sound echoing like a chime, “Of course not, mon cheri.” He smiled smally, taking a step back from you. “I have a lot to tell you.”

You opened your mouth to reply but was interrupted by a white flake falling in front of you. That one flake was followed by another, then another, until the room was covered in white. You froze, your eyes wide as you marveled at the sight. You had never seen snow before and as the chill licked at your cheeks, you smiled softly. 

You held your hand out to catch some flakes against your palm, holding up the whiteness to your eyes. “How…?” You whispered. 

“I am learning to control my power.” Michael told you proudly beaming as he stopped the snow, “So that I can fulfill my purpose.” 

“This is amazing.” You marveled, grinning at Michael. The boy smiled back at you coyly, averting his eyes to the snow instead. “I missed you, Mikey.” You whispered, biting your lip, “Did you miss me?”

Michael nodded his cheeks tinting pink like they used to, “So much, Cher.” 

You smiled, holding your hand out to him. He stepped toward you and you let the sheet drop, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “You look nice.” You complimented, cheekily twirling a strand of hair around your finger, “Your hair is longer.” 

“My hair is combed.” Michael corrected with his hands on either side of you. “You look beautiful as you always do, mon cheri.”

You hummed as you nuzzled your nose against his, gazing into his eyes, “I can’t believe that witch sent you to this boarding school.” 

“Be nice.” The blonde warned and you scowled, picking at his coat, “And it was my idea.” 

You pulled away from suddenly, your face hinting at the betrayal you felt. “How could you?” You muttered, hitting his chest, “You couldn’t call me? Or write? Or send a  _ fucking _ carrier pigeon?”

“It was bigger than us, it was my destiny to-!”

You sucked your teeth, waving your hand in dismissal. “You could have told me, Michael.” You snapped, crossing your arms. “It really felt like you just  _ fucked _ then left.” 

“I would never do that.” Michael frowned, rubbing your arms soothingly. “I  _ could _ never do that, Cher. I love you.”

“You ignored me for four months.” You hissed in retort, pushing his hands off of you. “There is absolutely nothing you could  _ ever _ say to-!”

_ “I brought you here to marry you.”  _

Your arms fell as well as your mouth. Your brain short-circuited and all you heard was the beating of your own heart. You searched Michael’s face for a hint of a joke but found none. 

“What are you talking about?” You screeched, pushing him away and jumping down from the slab, “Michael you are  _ not _ funny-!”

“Cherrie.” You instantly shut up at the tone of his voice. That was new. “I want to marry you in the eyes of my father,” Michael explained, his fingers intertwining with yours. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, before shaking your head. ”No, Michael, we can’t.”

The blonde huffed in agitation, his eyes narrowing, “Cher a reckoning is coming and this is the only way I can secure your safety. This ritual will provide us with a link to each other. Don’t you want to be safe?”

“It’s  _ marriage,  _ Michael!” You exclaimed, snatching your hands out of his, “What happens when you find out that I’m just a passing infatuation? Does your daddy do divorces? You want to be stuck to me forever?”

Michael’s hard expression softened and his eyes became glossy. He fell to his knees in front of you, burying his head in your stomach. “I love you.” The blonde whispered, nuzzling against you as his voice cracked, “And you said you loved me, too. You promised to never leave me and if you do this our souls will be bound for eternity.”

You frowned as he cried against your bare stomach, his tears wetting your skin. “Michael you’re still young,” You weakly argued again, “You might change your mind.”

Michael shook his head, his lips pressing against your abdomen. “I don’t want anyone else,” He muttered like a child begging for a toy, “I just want you.” 

An unknown feeling tugged on your heart as you put a soothing hand on Michael’s head, running your finger through his curls softly. It was so much to ask of someone so young. You hadn’t even thought of marriage, hell even with the baby scares. Yet here this boy was begging for your hand on his knees, absolutely  _ devastated  _ at the thought of your rejection. 

Who would ever love you that much again?

“Shh,” You muttered, gently sweeping the hair from his eyes, “Don’t cry.” 

“I don’t wanna do this without you Cher,” Michael hiccuped, clutching you tighter, “I  _ can’t.”  _ The boy's eyes shined as he peeked up at you, a pout on his lips,  _ “Please.” _ He pleaded once more, his face wet with tears. 

You stared at him long and hard. Those blue eyes could’ve made you do anything. 

“Okay.” You finally uttered, closing your eyes with a sigh. “Okay.” 

Michael’s face lit up and the candles in the room surged, the flames threatening to burn you. He hugged you tightly from his spot on the ground and peppered your abdomen with kisses, before trying to move lower.

You rolled your eyes and tugged at his hair, making him look up at you. He sniffled and as leftover hiccups raked his body, he beamed brightly. 

Lowering yourself to your knees, you pressed your lips against his, sweet and soft. “I trust you.” You whispered, leaning your forehead against his. 

“Good.” Michael replied as the big doors of the room opened once more and the people came flooding in once more. 

You looked around the room with wide eyes as you and Michael stood up. You felt something drape across your shoulders and saw it was a white dress, the silk soft against your skin. Miss Mead walked up to the two of you then, tears in her dark eyes. 

“Girl,” She snapped hardly, before clipping a long veil in your hair, “You should be honored.” She fluffed the veil and adjusted the thin straps of your dress. You felt her wipe at the corners of your eyes and lips, no doubt fixing the makeup you had applied that morning and making it more presentable. She gave you a quick once over before stepping back and smiling.

You managed to return the smile, your heart swelling a little as she doted over you. Michael’s hand appeared in front of you and you took it without a thought, smiling up at the boy. His smile was small but his cheeks were pink. 

The man from before began to murmur words from that black book again but you kept your eyes on Michael’s even as the congregation began to chant. 

You should have been frightened or nervous or having second thoughts but you weren’t. It seemed so right like this is what you were supposed to do. Like it was your destiny to be standing in front of Michael, just as it was his to be in front of you. You felt wise beyond your years and you looked forward to those years with Michael by your side. It felt right. This was extremely right. 

“Bring in the sacrificial lamb.” The man then commanded, bringing you out of your loving thoughts. 

A man was brought into the room with a sack over his head, naked as the day was new. The members dropped him between the two of you and the man bowed his head, uttering to Michael, “Honor us oh great son.”

The blonde let go of your hand but his eyes stayed on yours as he ripped the heart from the man, the poor thing falling to the side. Your eyes widened and as you looked down at the dead man, Michael forced your gaze back to his. In his hand, he held the still beating heart of the sacrifice. 

You couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes. You didn’t know if it was terror or sorrow but as Michael stepped closer to you, all of it melted away. He held the heart between the two of you and pressed it to your lips, his other hand on the small of your back. Bile raised in your throat but you forced it down. The heart smelt of metal and rare steak and as much as you tried to seal your lips against it, the sharp taste of blood found its way to your tongue. 

“Mon cheri,” Michael muttered, his fingers stroking your back,  _ “Eat.” _

Closing your eyes tight, you opened your mouth, taking a bite of the heart at the same time as Michael. As you chewed on the raw meat, your eyes opened. It really wasn’t that bad. 

The congregation looked on in delight and Michael dropped the organ, stroking your cheek softly. You felt the sticky substance on your skin but smiled regardless, your teeth red. 

“And now the final portion of the ceremony.” The man announced and Michael pecked your lips, leading you past the man to the back of the room, where a pentagram was being painted with the sacrifice’s blood. 

As you stood over the marking, your veil was pulled out of your hair and hands worked to unbutton your dress, leaving you bare. You quickly covered your breasts with your arm and crossed your legs, “What the fuck?” You exclaimed, glaring at Miss Mead before a calm washed over your body. You furrowed your brows and looked over to Michael, just to see him as naked as you were. Without even saying anything, he had somehow relaxed you. 

The blonde then pressed his forehead against yours and maneuvered the two of you down to the pentagram and on your knees.  A knife was placed between the two of you and you felt your panic spike again. Michael picked up the dagger and dug it into his arms, to your horror cutting vertically. 

“Michael!” You gasped, snatching the dagger from him before he could do the other arm. His blood dripped to the floor and to your surprise smoke began to arise. 

“I’m fine, Cher.” The blonde assured you, though he had brutally wounded himself. “It’s just part of the ritual.” 

“You cut your  _ vein _ .” You hissed, scooting closer to examine his arm, “You’re gonna bleed out-!” Before you could finish your diatribe, the skin was already pulling itself together. Your eyebrows raised and you took the dagger in your hand, slicing a surface cut along his arm. It healed within a second. 

“Are you finished?” Michael questioned dryly, a smirk on his face. 

You said nothing, only nodding and handing him the dagger back. He repeated the actions with his arm, then his other arm before holding his hand out for you. Swallowing thickly, you presented him with your forearms, twitching as he pressed the blade to your skin. 

“It’s okay.” Michael cooed, stroking your skin with his thumb. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours, his tongue slithering into your mouth. You moaned, pressing back hotly, only to yelp as he quickly slid the dagger down your arm. You pulled away with a glare and he laughed as he did the other arm. 

Your blood dripped onto the pentagram as well and as the two mixed, the streams of red began to grow into snakes. They slid between the two of you, hissing and intertwining with one another before settling around you in a circle. 

You watched with wide eyes, marveling at the beauty of it all. Michael’s soft grip on your chin made you turn your head towards him and he was kissing you again, sliding the blood for his arm down your side. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, smacking your lips against his. He gripped your hair in his hand and you moaned, tugging at his nape as well. You had almost forgotten that the two of you had an audience. 

Almost. 

“Ave Satanas.” The crowd still chanted lowly, the sound becoming background noise to the event. 

You pulled away from the kiss, Michael chasing your lips and pecking them. “Is this part of it?” You breathed as he nuzzled his nose against yours. He nodded and you frowned, closing your eyes as he trailed his lips over your cheek. “I don’t want them watching.” You muttered, breath hitching as he mouthed at your throat. 

“We need witnesses.” Michael replied lowly, looping his arms through yours. He kissed you again and slowly forced your back to the floor, the blood still warm against your skin. He pulled your bottom lip into his mouth and sucked, his hands holding him up. Moving away from your face, he pecked his away to your chest, kissing the middle of it sweetly, before taking a nipple in his mouth. He pulled away and sucked, scraping his teeth across it. 

You mewled, burying your hand in his hair, “Aren’t I supposed to be a virgin or something?” You then quipped breathlessly, laughing as he rolled his eyes at you. He repeated the actions with your other nipple, his moans vibrating against your skin. 

Not wanting the congregation to get too much of a show, you tugged Michael’s head up, kissing his lips as your hand found his prick. He gasped in your mouth and thrusted into your hand, his hips pressing against your thighs. He got the hint and spread your legs, feeling for your readiness. He sneakily dipped two fingers into you and arched them up, pumping a few times just to make you shake. You did just that, throwing your head back as he prodded and poked. 

_ “Michael!” _ You hissed and he blinked his eyes up you innocently. You dug your nails into his forearms, which had gotten much  _ bigger _ , and glared at him icily. “Brat.” You snapped just low enough so that the congregation didn’t hear you. 

Michael grinned at you cheekily and lined himself up with your cunt, his head pecking your entrance lovingly. He pushed himself in slowly, his eyes on your face as he filled you. You caught his eye and he smiled, bright and genuine, which made you smile.

At that moment it was just the two of you, no creepy congregation looking on. He snapped his hips up and you bit your lip, moan bubbling behind it. Michael nuzzled his nose against yours and cupped your cheeks and he fucked you, your bodies sliding over each other. His cheeks were pink again and as you looked at his lips, you thought they were a little to pale for your tastes. So you bit them, swallowing his moan as his mouth fell open. 

Your toes curled at the sensation of being so full again. You hadn’t fucked anyone since he left and if you didn’t fuck anyone else again you’d be okay with it. There was a sweet burn that started from your pussy and trailed up your spine to your scalp and you greedily tried to squeeze every ounce of heat from the blonde boy. He wasn’t even completely pulling out of you, it was just little bursts of thrust and his head knocking against your walls.

Michael kept his eyes on your face the entire time, watching every twitch and smile with one of his own. He stroked your cheeks lovingly and you pecking his hand, returning his sweet smile. As you watched him watch you, the blue in his eyes began to give way to black and soon there was only a ring of the ocean left. The sweet smile he had faltered and gave way to one more sharp and his face flashed white. 

Before you could properly comprehend what it was you saw, your knees were to your ears and Michael bad begun fucking the ever living shit out of you.

You choked, gasped, screamed, moaned, and died all at the same.  _ “Michael!” _ You screeched, your head knocking against the marble floor as his hips snapped to yours. Your head rolled back as well as your eyes but you were forced to look up once again. 

_ “Look at me _ . _ ” _ The blonde called in a voice that you had only heard in a dream.

It was deep and dark as the black eyes peering down at you. His nails dug into the fat of your thighs as he held your knees up, before one of his hands left to wrap around your throat.

You moaned loudly and grasped his wrist, your breath coming out in little puffs. “Fuck,” You desperately called, your toes curling, “Oh my fuck!”

“Are you gonna cum in front of all these people, Cher?” The blonde taunted darkly, nibbling at your lips. “Coat my cock in your sweet cum?”

“Mich-!” You tried but couldn’t even get it out as he rammed into you. Your cunt clenched around him and you felt every  _ vein _ of his length inside of you. 

Every inch of you tingled with an unknown surge of energy and as your toes begun to curl you felt something growing tighter and tighter inside of you. The burn that had run up your spine had settled at the back of your neck and you felt like someone was searing you with a hot poker. Just as you felt yourself began cum, Michael let go of your throat and buried his nose into your neck, clutching you tightly against him as your cunt pulsated around him. 

It hit you like a truck, fast and all at once and you felt tears running down your cheeks. You buried your fingers into Michael’s golden crown, gritting your teeth and tugging with all of your might. Your whole body convulsed and in the height of it all, Michael dug his teeth into your neck so deeply that blood began to run from the wound like a river. Your cunt squeezed every last drop of cum from his cock and your mind blanked as the congregation began to shout. 

“I love you.” Michael babbled, licking every last drop of blood from your throat. “You’re so beautiful, I love you.”

You couldn’t speak, all of your energy was drained. It took a few moments for you to realize that you were floating above everyone. 

“Michael.” You croaked, clinging to the boy for dear life. 

“Yeah?” The boy replied, still peppering your skin with pecks. 

“I’m tired.” You muttered, your lids drooping closed. In the next moment, you were unconscious. 

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. It was dark, but a light was shining from a doorway at the end of the bed. There was a slight burn at the back of your neck and as you reached to touch it, you pulled back with a hiss of pain. Looking back to the rectangle of light, you stood from the bed, noticing that you were in a white button up for the first time.

You padded to the door and looked through the little crack, seeing Michael looking through your tote with your makeup on the counter. You held in a laugh as he pressed his fingers against your shadow palette, rubbing it between his fingers.

“Michael?” You called like you didn’t know what was happening. 

“In here.” He called back, still examining his fingers.

You pushed open the door and smiled brightly at him, moving to stand at his side. 

“How do you feel?” Michael questioned, examining your face.

“The back of my neck is burning for some reason.” You informed him, turning around and holding up your hair, “Did something bite me?” You shivered as he traced it with his fingers, his touch soothing the burn.

“It’s just your mate mark.” Michael explained, blowing on it. You clenched your eyes shut as euphoria filled your body. He moved to stand in front of you and moved his hair to the side, revealing three sixes seared into his skin. “It matches mine.” 

You blinked, wondering why you never noticed it before. Reaching out, you traced a finger over the raised skin, feeling Michael tense. You heard a rumble of a suppressed moan in his chest and smiled, blowing on it as he had done yours. 

“So this is all real.” You whispered as Michael turned towards the mirror again, unashamedly going through your stuff.

“Yep.” He replied simply, holding up your eyeshadow palette. “Why didn’t you wear this in the summertime?”

You snatched it from his hands, examining the metallic red, “It was too hot.” You retorted, before rolling your eyes, “And why are you going through my stuff anyway?”

“What’s yours is mine.” Michael childishly chanted, snatching it back from you. He opened the cover and slid his finger across once more, examining the color in the light of the bathroom. He turned to you and traced his finger down your cheek, depositing the color on your skin. “It’s very pretty.” He murmured, before looking at his reflection in the mirror. 

You gave him a once over before grinning, “Go sit on the toilet.” 

“Excuse me?” Michael blanched and you laughed, pushing him.

“With the lid on, you brat.” 

Michael did what you asked of him and you got your makeup bag, sitting it on the counter. You walked over to him and put a little eyeshadow on your finger, rubbing it at the corner of his eyes. You stood back and examined your work, ignoring the hard stare from the boy. “Now don’t steal all of my makeup, I need it.”

“No, you don’t.” Michael scoffed, getting up from his seat to look in the mirror. His eyes widened for a moment, then he smiled. “I like it.” He decided, his eyes flickering to your reflection, “Now I’m pretty like you.” 

“The prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around him. He returned the embrace with pink cheeks, still shy after all that you’ve done. You snickered, poking him in the side, “Now that we cleared that up,” You started before taking a step back, “Where did you hide all of my panties?” 


	11. After

In the morning you woke up alone with sore legs. Your vision was blurry with sleep but your memory was sharp. You smiled to yourself before getting out of the bed and stretching. Walking to the bathroom felt like you were a newborn doe and you had to get over the discomfort of your stretched muscles. 

You clicked on the light and looked at yourself in the mirror, lips twitching as you saw the dark marks across your clavicle like a necklace from last night’s reunion. You reached behind your head and traced your dark mark, feeling content in the heat.

After splashing water on your face, you padded back in the bedroom and opened the wardrobe, finding a dozen purple dresses that Michael had brought for you. You picked one with a higher collar than usual and laid it on the bed, then started to hunt for the undergarments to match. You found them in a drawer in the dresser, folded up pristinely. They were, contrastingly, made of different colors of lace, each design begging to be worn. You picked a random black pair and put on the panties first, then laced up the bodice. You rolled your stockings to the mid-thigh and clipped them, placing tugging your dress over your head and tying it in the back as well as you could.

You walked to the floor length mirror and examined your new dress as you tied the front of it, admiring how you look. You grabbed some lace-up heels from the closet and tied them, marveling at how perfectly they fit. Smiling, you tiptoed to the stairs, pausing when you heard two voices.

Michael seemed to be doing an interview but by the sounds of it he was finishing up. You quietly sat on the top step, trying to decipher who was being interviewed. Your eyes widened at the realization that it was Gallant and he was shamelessly flirting with Michael. 

“Can I ask you something?” Gallant started and you leaned in a little closer to hear, “Are you gay because I’m getting serious hits off you.” 

“Does the idea of that excite you?” Came Michael’s reply and you scoffed, silently rolling your eyes at his teasing.

“Yes.” Gallant breathed before retorting, “What are you gonna do about it?” 

You balled your fist as you heard footsteps leading away from the stairs and to the door. You heard the door slide open and Gallant leave before the door was closed again. You got up from your perch and held your dress as you descended down the stairs, seeing Michael with his back to the door and that small, tight grin.

“Good morning.” He greeted lowly as your eyes narrowed at him. 

“Morning.” You called back, your heeled steps sounding as you tried to walk by him to the door. He easily stepped in front of you and tilted his head, locking his gaze to yours. 

“Where are you off to?” Michael questioned in a murmur, reaching up to run a finger down your cheek endearingly. 

“The library.” You answered in a whisper, ignoring the burning touch.

“Are you jealous?” He outright asked, his smirk growing just a fraction as you scoffed. 

“Are you gay?” You retorted just as quick, as Michael’s smile grew even more.

It was a game to him but you are the one who intended to win.

“Satan is more than carnal pleasure.” Michael uttered, stepping closer, “Though do I seem to recall that a man’s g-spot is in his anus, I don’t think Gallant is the ‘pitching’ type.”

“And you are?” You raised your brows, as his hand slid by your arm to grip your waist, “Don’t forget who used to be your ‘mama’,  _ homeschool.” _ You teased before removing his hand and slipping past him. 

As you reached the door you were tugged back by the skirt of your dress. Blonde locks fell over your shoulder and Michael’s lips were at your ear as his hand splayed across your belly. “Don’t walk away from me.” He muttered darkly, his lips mouthing against your ear. 

“Don’t make me.” You retorted, intertwining your fingers with the hand on your stomach. 

Michael hummed and his body dwarfed over yours as he swayed the two of you from side to side. “You’re being  _ bad _ .” He rasped and your lashes fluttered as he gripped the dress fabric in his hand, the heat threatening to sear it off. 

_ “Then punish me.”  _ You whispered, letting your head fall back against him.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Michael questioned lowly, trailing a finger up your stomach. “But do you deserve it?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” You retorted, prying his hand off of you, “You have to work and I have to blend in.” 

“You’ve never blended in, mon cheri.” Michael breathed lovingly, pressing a kiss to your temple before letting you go completely. “I expect you back after dinner.” 

“I expect you to actually come to dinner.” You pointedly replied, giving him one last wink before exiting the room. You slid the doors closed and went the way to the library, automatically falling back into your reclusive self. Though this time, you had an indescribable glow. 

On the way to the library, you had to walk through the sitting room. On one of the couches was Gallant, splayed out like a patient with Coco seated at his side.

“I’m telling you he swings my way.” The bottle blonde pouted, his eyes wide, “He basically pushed his cock in my mouth.”

Coco scoffed, “Maybe he’s bi. I have my interview next, I can scope things out.”

You silently rolled your eyes as soon as your back was to them.

“Hey!” Coco’s voice called suddenly and you turned around. Her eyes scanned over you before Gallant turned to do the same. “That’s a nice dress.” 

“Thank you.” You slowly replied, before turning around again. 

“Where’d you get it?” Gallant questioned, sitting up suddenly. 

“I brought it with me.” You lied easily, facing them with a smile. 

“Why are you just now wearing it?” Coco asked, her eyes narrowing. 

“Why do you care?” You retorted sharply, easy smile still on your face. 

Coco scowled, rolling her eyes, “I don’t.” 

“Good.” You chimed, turning around again, “You shouldn’t.” 

As you walked away you heard one more thing from Gallant, “I didn’t know she could talk.” 

You made it to the library without any more distractions. You grabbed a random book and took a seat on the couch, ready to waste time. 

You were there all day, flipping through pages and alternating between texts. The lights began to dim, signifying the latter half of the day and as you looked up from your novel, there was a hard candy on the table. 

You smiled to yourself and you unwrapped it, moaning as you put it in your mouth. 

“Thank you.” You muttered quietly, crossing your legs. Just then the lights blinked twice, notifying you of dinner. You put your book away then walked to the dining room, seeing your peers taking their seats. You took your regular seat by the head of the table and waited, hoping Michael would show up. 

He didn’t. 

You ate your cube, ignoring the glares from thing one and two and when you were done, you got up from the table and left. 

Humming, you made your way through the halls, your heels echoing softly. You made it to the black double doors and knocked twice, patiently waiting. 

The doors slid open but instead of your lover standing there, you walked in to find him seated at his desk. 

The doors closed behind you and you frowned, padding up to the desk. “You missed dinner.”

Michael didn’t look up from his writing. “I wasn’t hungry.” He answered shortly. 

You blinked, slightly perturbed. “You weren’t hungry…” You repeated lowly, toeing off your shoes and walking around his desk. You got beside him and stopped, peering over his shoulder at what he was writing. You feigned interest before raising your foot and placing it right beside him. 

You felt his hot gaze flicker to the movement, “I would think,” You started gently, taking your time to unclip your stocking and roll the material down your leg, “You would be,” You continued in a whisper, before pulling the soft material off,  _ “Starving.” _

Michael’s hand came in contact with your skin immediately but you smacked it away, instead turning him around in his desk chair to face you. His eyes were dark, blown black with a ring of blue. You watched him swallow and raised your foot to the seat of the chair barely stroking him with your toes. 

“I gave you one thing to do.” You pouted, pressing harder into him, “And you couldn’t even do-!” You were interrupted by his hand pressing your foot completely against his erection. 

_ “Don’t touch me.” _ You snapped with a scowl retracting your foot before muttering mockingly, “You said you weren’t hungry.” 

The air in the room was hot, a slick wet warmth that licked at your skin. You knew the growing temperature was Michael’s doing but you appreciated the fact that he hadn’t snapped his fingers yet. 

“Get on your knees.” You murmured and he was kneeling before you in the next second. His eyes gazed up at you like you were the sun and he would happily go blind just to get a glimpse. 

You held in the urge to tuck his hair behind his ear. Instead, you presented your other leg, your foot peeking beneath your skirts. “Take it off.” You commanded, bracing yourself on his shoulders as he reached under your skirt. His eyes never wavered from yours and you fought to hold your composure at the feeling of him delicately rolling the nylon down your leg. His finger brushed against your skin in little beats, almost feeling like a spider walking down your skin. Cradling your foot, he gently pulled the stocking off of you. 

Both of your legs were now bare under your dress and you resisted the urge to rub them together to relieve some of the tension between them. “Aren’t you hungry?” You questioned, your voice like a bell as you braced a hand against the desk. 

Michael swallowed, his long lashes fluttering against his cheek. He nodded once silently, but that just wouldn’t do. 

You frowned, “Michael?” You called before shaking your head, “Or maybe I should say, Langdon?”

_ “Don’t.” _ The blonde finally choked, his hands balled into desperate fists against his sides. You could hear the dark edge of his tone and knew you were pushing it. “That’s not what you call me.” 

“Are. You. Hungry?” You repeated, giving in and brushing the hair from his face. The soft tendrils slipped through your fingers like silk. 

Michael took a deep breath through his nose and set his jaw before murmuring, “ _ Yes.” _

“Come eat.” You finally said gasping as you were pushing against the desk and Michael yanked up your skirt. You desperately grabbed the fabric in your hands as much as you could, nearly losing your balance as Michael yanked the panties off of you. 

As Michael attached his mouth to your center, both of you seemed to sigh in relief in unison as he began to lap at you desperately. You watched his eyes roll back into his head in pure ecstasy as he suckled on your clit, before dipping into your wetness. 

The sound was almost obscene and you were close to ripping the fabric of your skirt to get a better look. Michael gripped your right leg before lifting it to his shoulder, giving him better access to your cunt and you groaned, letting go of your skirts to tug at his hair. A deep moan vibrated against your cunt and you bit your lip, throwing your head back as you felt your climax already approaching you. 

“Michael.” You croaked, your eyes closing tight,  _ “Michael”  _

All it took was a sharp suckle of your clit and you were falling back against the desk, back arched as your orgasm racked through your body. You choked out every praise you could think off, as your nails clawed at the wood beneath you. But, as always, Michael just  _ wouldn’t stop. _

You were on the verge of tears when he finally let go of your hips and stood. You studied the man with lidded eyes, his lips shining with your essence and his eyes still black. He pulled you up by your dress, staring you down as he yanked the string from the back of it. When it was loose, he tugged the front down, your breasts popping out as you heaved. 

You batted your lashes as you stared up at him, your legs around his hips. 

“Fuck me.” You ordered.

“No.” He muttered, though his hand moved to grip your thigh. It burned, and that burn traveled all through your body until you were on fire. _ “I’m still hungry.”  _

“Please.” You hiccuped, as he leaned forward to kiss down the expanse of your neck. He left a wet trail in his wake and as he got to your breasts he smiled against your skin. He looked up at you with those same eyes as when you were both kids, playful and sweet before nudging his nose against your nipple and lapping at it. 

Your breath caught and you swallowed thickly, eyes rolling as he scraped his teeth against it. He moved to lick at the bead of sweat between your breasts before repeating the same motions with the other nipple. 

You only held on to his shoulders tight, scared to fall back again. He looked up at you with a tight smile before pressing his lips to yours. You eagerly pressed back, tangling a hand in his hair as he licked into your mouth. 

_ “Sweet.”  _ He murmured softly against your lips, suckling on your bottom one. 

“Fuck me.” You repeated softly, nuzzling your nose against his. 

“Not yet,” Michael repeated in retort and you yanked at his hair. His mouth fell open and his eyes fluttered closed, his hands gripping your thighs. 

“Mikey.” You hissed, though it was mostly desperation. “Bend me over your desk and fuck me like a good boy.” 

Michael’s hand clapped around your wrist and tugged your hand from his hair, in an instant he yanked you from the desk, turning you on your stomach and growling in your ear, “I’m not a good boy anymore, mon cheri. In fact,” He paused as your heart hammered against your chest, “I think you’re not being good either.” He nudged your legs apart and tugged your skirts up, exposing your bare ass to him. 

To your surprise and delight, he reared his hand back and struck your left cheek, hard enough for it to sting. You yelped, trying to look over your shoulder but your head was pushed down against the desk again. He struck your right cheek and you let out a moan, your knees buckling. 

“You like it…” Michael murmured behind you and you could hear the smugness in his tone. “Maybe I should get a belt.” He mused allowed before spanking you again. 

_ “Fuck me.”  _  You begged, your voice wavering, “Please.  _ Please _ . I’ll be good.”

“Will you?” Michael questioned, fingers rubbing between your lower lips. “I don’t believe you.” 

“I’ll be  _ so  _ good.” You repeated, now outright sobbing, “I promise.  _ I promise.”  _

“I know,” Michael admitted, pressing his bare cock on your cheeks. " _ I know, mon cheri.” _ He cooed, as he lined his cockhead to your entrance. His body dwarfed yours and he kissed the tears from your cheeks as he entered you from behind. His cock was fully sheathed inside of you and he nuzzled against your cheek, his hands gripping your hips hotly. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you Cherrie?”

You nodded silently, your breath catching as he pressed his lips against your mark. The burning of the action along with him beginning to fuck you against the desk made you want to burst. You tried to grip something,  _ anything _ but could not get a hold of the desk. Even your toes struggled to touch the ground and you found yourself arching your feet to anchor your body to something. 

Drool pooled from your mouth and Michael’s hair covered your face like a curtain, moving back and forth as he entered you over and over again. It felt like heaven even though it was coming from the prince of hell. 

Michael pulled away from you and you whined loudly before your body was turned over and he entered you once more, smiling a little as he saw your face. He pinned you to the desk with his body this time, stroking both of your cheeks with his thumbs as he fucked you open. 

“My girl is so pretty.” He murmured against your lips, staring down at you adoringly, the mask of punishment gone. “And you’re taking me so well.”

You pouted and he kissed your lips, jutting his hips up suddenly to make you lose your breath. He snickered against your mouth before turning your head with his finger and sucking marks into your neck. 

“Michael.” You finally croaked, scratching at his back through his jacket. 

“I feel it.” Michael muttered into your skin, “I’m…” He trailed, his hips stalling for a moment before speeding up. 

You closed your eyes tight and felt him kiss you again. As your cunt squeezed around him, your teeth buried into his bottom lip and your back arched again. “Michael.” You whined, tasting metal as he filled you with his cum not a moment later. He fucked you through both of your orgasms, his cum dripping down your legs. 

Michael finally stopped moving and just laid there for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open. Blood dripped from his bottom lip and you swiped it away, causing him to look down at you finally. 

“I’m sorry for missing dinner.” He muttered, nuzzling his nose against yours. 

“I’m not.” You grinned salaciously, making him chuckle. 

An hour later the two of you were in the bathtub washing away the carnage from your skin. You were seated with Michael in your lap, rose petals floating around you in the water. 

“Y’know,” You started, running your hands through Michael’s wet hair, “I heard Coco and Gallant talking about you.” The blonde hummed against your chest, his eyes still closed as you scratched at his scalp. “Gallant said you pushed your cock in his mouth.”

“He wishes.” Michael retorted, rubbing his hands up and down your legs. 

You hummed in turn, twirling a blonde strand around your finger. 

“Are you jealous?” Michael questioned you for the second time that day, his lips twitching. 

_ “You _ wish.” You mocked, tugging the strand you were holding. 

“Don’t fret, mon cheri,” The blonde murmured, patting your thigh, “They wouldn’t’ve liked me if I still looked like this.” Without opening his eyes, Michael’s hair shortened and his cheeks grew fuller. His body grew less toned and when he opened his eyes to look up at you, a pink tint was too his face. 

You smiled, whispering as you moved the hair from his eyes, “You used to look like an angel.” 

“As opposed to the devil?” Michael jested, before sitting up from your chest to face you. You marveled at the transition, placing your hand on his cheek.

You pouted before teasing, “I think I miss this.”

Michael raised a blonde brow, imitating your pout. “You only miss being in charge.”

“Oh don’t kid yourself,  _ Mikey,”  _ You muttered, reaching around to stroke his cock, “I am  _ still _ in charge.” You nuzzled your nose against his before pecking his lips, jacking him off slowly.

“Just for tonight.” The cherub uttered before moaning into your mouth. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on my [fanfiction tumblr](http://deepett.tumblr.com/) , I answer questions and stuff and things.


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